


Grounds For Thought

by ReedusCollinsAckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Character Death, M/M, Mute Castiel, Writer Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReedusCollinsAckles/pseuds/ReedusCollinsAckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak alway kept to himself and the safe comfort of his Boston apartment that was gifted to him by his Uncle Bobby who has taken care of him since the young age of four when his parents died in a car accident that Castiel nearly didn’t escape from.<br/>Castiel’s only other place of refuge is the bookstore on the corner of Broadway and Lennox that was refurbished to also be a hip little coffee shop renamed Grounds For Thought.<br/>Though Cas doesn’t deal with the patrons, he finds solace in the books and tidying them and flipping their pages until one day the rumble of a motorcycle outside catches Cas’ ear.<br/>The mysterious motorcycle rider catches Castiel’s eye and tries to make small talk with the dark hair and blue eyed boy but Cas just smiles and turns to go back to work.<br/>Because Cas can’t talk to the stranger because Cas is mute. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(summary continues in first chapter due to character limits)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Soon the strange, mysterious motorcycle rider is making repeated daily trips to Grounds For Thought and Castiel can’t help but wonder if it’s for him and begins to try to interact with the man with a pad of paper and pen he keeps in his apron he’s required to wear for work.  
His name is Dean Winchester and he’s a writer that was solely in Boston for the purpose of his next book. It was going to be the next New York Bestseller all about horror and zombies because zombies were the big thing right now.

Soon Dean breaks Castiel out of his shell and the results are beautiful. That’s until one day Cas receives a text on his cell phone that Dean was involved in a motorcycle accident and things begin to fall apart in every aspect of Cas’ life.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter One

“Ignorance _was_ bliss”  
Chuck Palahniuk

Castiel Novak dusted the bookshelves quietly as he did most things. Quite was the way to describe Castiel; quite and just as little bit odd. Most people avoided the young twenty-three year old man because he was just so quite and liked to keep to himself as he worked his shift at the book and coffee shop aptly named Grounds For Thought but that wasn’t completely his fault. When he was only a toddler at four years old Castiel was riding in the back seat of his parents car as they made their way to Winchester to where his Uncle lived. Even at four years old Castiel knew they were headed out to see his Uncle Bobby for a very important reason but the reason, now in the present day couldn’t be remember not that it even mattered. The normal twenty minute drive to his Uncle’s house would never be completed at least not by all three occupants of the black Ford Taurus.

It had started raining almost as soon as Mr. Novak pulled the car out of the driveway and onto the road the rain started to come down in think curtains that made it hard to see. Castiel enjoyed the rain though himself and quickly unbuckled his seat belt, shifting himself from his position in the middle of the car to the seat behind his mother and began blowing his breath against the cold window and dragging his little fingers to make little shapes and drawings. They had just turned off of Mystic Parkway and were half were through the twists and turns of the forest lined South Border Road but the roads were just too wet and Mr. Novak could not see for the very life of him even though he tried to grip the stirring wheel. Mrs. Novak felt a shiver of terror rip through her as she turned around in her seat and called to little Castiel, her voice thick with tears that had been there all day, Castiel was positive about that. That might have been the reason they had been headed to Winchester in the first place. But Castiel, even nineteen years later remembered his mother’s last words very clearly;  
“Don’t be afraid, my Angel. Everything happens-“

At first the Doctors didn’t know if Castiel wasn’t speaking because of the physical trauma he sustained, which consisted of a large shard of glass to his throat that possibly damaged his vocal chords along with multiple other cuts and bruises from being thrown around the car from not being held back by a seat belt. Their second thought was psychological damage from witnessing the accident first-handed and seeing the deaths of his parents. this all came from a Doctor at the University of Boston that Uncle Bobby would in his opinion label a ‘quack’. He has shuffled the little boy away from the Doctors and head shrinkers as fast as they would humanely let him and they drove back to his house that was right off Wolcott Road and back behind the trees in a clearing near Long Pond. This is where Castiel grew up and he was reluctant to live when he turned eighteen.

“Cas, I am not going to coddle you. I know that isn’t what your mother and my brother would have wanted,” Uncle Bobby stood on his porch. Castiel could hear birds chirping in the background and knew that that was one of the most assuring sounds in his life and he didn’t want to lose it. His Uncle talked of Boston frequently and he knew that was were he used to live, where Castiel used to live before the accident with his parents.  
Castiel signed, “ ** _I’m scared. Boston is a big city_**.”  
There was no sign of backing down from his Uncle. Uncle Robert ‘Bobby’ Steven Singer was no old fool. He stood at six foot three inches and had been in the Army Reserves in the late 80’s before being sent to the Persian Gulf and Panama. He served two tours and came home to his cabin and his brother, sister-in-law and the surprise of a little nephew.  
“Cas, you can’t skate by on life. There’s so much more out there. You can’t be afraid to take chances - to live a little, kid.”

His mother’s own parting words rung loudly in his ears and he felt himself signing the words, “ _ **Yes,**_ ” and “ _ **Okay**_ ” before he even knew what he was doing.

Days later Castiel was packing up what little possessions he owned from the cabin and throwing them in the back of his Uncle’s old beat up ’98 black Chevrolet Silverado.  
As they pulled out of the dirt driveway, Castiel had the feeling of loss pull over him. As if he would never again see the cabin ever again, hear the birds sing their song, or fish in the lake. As the passed Wolcott, then moved on to South Border Road Nicolas stomach flipped as it always did as they passed a certain part of the road where a small memorial was built up for his parents. Though nineteen years had indeed passed it was as though nothing had changed, the horror of that night was still fresh and alive whenever Castiel came by this road.  
Uncle Bobby knew this and without looking away from the road in front of his reached out his right arm and draped it across his nephew’s shivering shoulders.

Twenty minutes later they had made it out of Winchester and had parked on the side of a street and Uncle Bobby hopped out. Castiel was confused - Uncle Bobby said they were going to an apartment complex that welcomed mute and deaf residents. Instead, as he looked up to a sign that read ‘Grounds For Thought’ he figured they had stopped at a coffee shop. His Uncle was a bit of a coffee aficionado even though he lived in the middle of the woods and fished most of the day, that day wasn’t started until he had a strong cup of coffee in his system.  
Castiel himself was more partial to tea.

Following his Uncle inside he saw that it was not only a coffee shop but also a book shop. There was at least five aisles of bookshelves that Cas could see and directly in front of him there was a slightly sunk in floor with two worn in couches opposing each other and big overstuffed arm chairs across from them with a circular coffee table directly in the middle with books piled high on top of it. The shop itself was brightly lit from the natural light of the big floor to ceiling front windows in the front and there was scattered lights here and there that were for later when the sun went down.

Castiel was impressed, he liked this place. If this is what Boston has to offer then he didn’t mind it so much. He found himself drawn to the first bookcase and began perusing through it and saw that the books weren’t so much as in order as just thrown together on the shelves. It was chaotic but there was something about it that he liked. The first book that came to his attention was Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. He remembered reading it in his high school junior english lit class. It was chalk full of metaphors about love and gender identity. That’s what made him love it so much. It got him to think. It wasn’t the cheesy Amanda Bynes movie ‘based’ off it - though Castiel came to realize he did like to think of Orsino as Channing Tatum. He found a little bit of himself in that play. Though it wasn’t exactly like he could do anything about it. Dating was next to impossible. Who wanted to either spend an entire date trying to figure out what Cas was signing or constantly read what he was writing out on scraps of paper? He tried once to go out once with a girl named Meg when they were sixteen, before he had read the Twelfth Night, and it was a disaster. They were both frustrated with the one-sided conversation and even though Cas knew that Meg was trying to be sweet and not end the date simply on that fact alone because Cas did have so much more to offer, he really did. Who wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a six foot tall, dark hair, blue eyed guy? Nearly every girl (and yes even one or two of the boys) in his year did; but after the disaster, in Cas' opinion, he never tried it again.

“Alright, Cas you’re all set up - come over here and talk to Ellen,” Uncle Bobby called Cas over to where the cash register and the coffee bar was set up. Leaning against it was a woman who looked to be about forty with wavy dirty blonde hair. As Cas came to stand in front of her he saw light crows feet around her eyes and laugh lines around her mouth. She must be a deeply happy person, he thought.  
 ** _“Who is this?”_** Castiel signed.  
“Well Cas, my name is Ellen Harvelle and I am the barista slash owner of Grounds for Thought. You’re Uncle and I go way back,” Castiel looked from the Ellen to his Uncle and saw the happy smiles between them and nodded slowly.  
Cas signed in response, _**“So you know sign language?”**_  
She nodded, “Picked it up in the reserves before the war started.”  
Castiel nodded again absentmindedly. There had been plenty of wars before he had been born and even more after. It was life, people argue and if you’re high enough up on the food chain there can be a catastrophic reaction.  
There was a little more small talk between Ellen and Uncle Bobby when the word ‘job’ passed a few times from their mouths and Cas was quick to jump on that.  
 _ **“Wait, job?”**_ He signed.  
“You’re going to have to earn your keep, kid,” Uncle Bobby said his face lit with a small smile. Castiel was confused and he shook his head. “That apartment place I was talking about? It’s just around the corner on Broadway and Lennox; it’s kind of too good to be true Cassie but sometimes luck pans out.”

His Uncle was right about luck. Castiel had been working at the coffee shop for five years now and it had been amazing. He had even taken classes at the University and was contemplating on going back and continuing on to further his education for a masters degree. Cas pulled a book from its place on the shelf, Choke it was written by Chuck Palahnuik. A book about growing up pretty much parent-less and conning people into feeling sorry for you. Cas could relate, mostly anyway. Though he wasn’t a sex addict. Placing the book back on the shelf and moving on the roaring sound of something outside caught his attention and he looked up. Stepping out of the aisle he was in, he saw a man walk in carrying a motorcycle helmet. He thought to himself that that must have been the loud noise and went to go back to dusting and putting the books on his cart back on shelves when he heard Ellen call for him.

“Cas? Could you make a new pot of dark roast for me? I just served up the last it and I need to get the the doughnuts out of the fryer.”

Wordlessly Castiel made his way up to the front and behind the coffee bar and begun the tedious process of changing out the large pot of coffee. He loved his job, that was obvious but his almost near refusal some nights to lock up and leave and walk the six blocks over to his apartment; but he rather just be with the books.

Cas could feels eyes on him and glanced up slowly to see the motorcycle guy watching him from one of the overstuffed armchairs. He had placed his helmet on the coffee table and was drinking a coffee. _Probably that last dark roast_. Cas could see from the corner of his eye that the stranger was looking at him smiling ever so slightly as if he was checking him out. Nic gave himself a small smile as he placed the grounds of dark roast coffee in the top of the coffee machine and set it to brew. He went to check the hot water and if there was any for tea when the bell on the counter rang.  
Jerking his head up, he looked back to the two feet of open space where whoever was behind the counter could interact with the customer and there stood mystery man; but really who else could it have been? It was early afternoon on a Tuesday in August. Most of Boston was either at work or in class. This guy was just… Castiel didn’t have the word for it other than to call him a mystery.  
Cas didn’t hear Ellen coming from the back where the fryers were so he would have to deal with him; it’s not like he never dealt with a customer before, he just didn’t like it all that much.  
Going to standing in front of the man, Castiel got a much better view of him. He was wearing jeans and a light worn jacket that looked like it could be older than Cas but that wasn’t important. Castiel looked up at his face were a five o’clock shadow played home along with a host of freckles. His hair was short and dark but the most interesting thing about him was his bright, almost fantasy like green eyes.  
He smiled up at Castiel, “Got anymore Dark?”  
Cas was stunned for a minute by the gruffness of his voice. Clearly this man was not from around Boston. Maybe the Mid-West or further out? Wherever it was, Castiel had the slight tug in the back of his mind that he wanted to find out.

He shook his head and grabbed the note pad that was in his apron and wrote out,  
 _Five minutes, it’ll be ready._  
He turned the pad over and showed it to him.  
Glancing over the pad and then back up to the blue eyed boy, the mystery man nodded, “That’s alright. I have plenty of time to spare. Do you have laryngitis?”  
Feeling a cold chill of nerves come over him as he typical did whenever the topic came up he slowly shook his head and crossed out the sentence on his pad and wrote out the words that would probably send the cute green eyed guy running.

_I’m a mute_

Again the stranger glanced over the pad but to both Cas’ surprise and delight he did not going running.  
“I’ve never met one before, I’m sorry if I seem like a complete asshole just talking to you like this,” The mystery man ran his hand through his hair as if he were nervous. “My name’s Dean, Dean Winchester.”

He then proceeded to stick out his hand in a friendly gesture, Cas shook it before turning back to the pad of paper.  
 _Hi Dean, My name’s Castiel Novak_.

“Castiel, huh?” Dean read the pad. “Go by Cas at any chance?”  
Castiel nodded then turned his head to see that the coffee pot had refilled. He simply walked away to get another cup of coffee for Dean since that is what had started their conversation in the first, when he returned to the counter, Dean was on the phone and whatever was going on didn’t sound too pleasant.

“I told you this book is going to be different - No, I don’t want another cheesy romantic boy saves girl drama,” Dean took a pause and begun shifting his weight around from foot to foot as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone call. “Listen, Frank it’s my book, right? If I want to write about Zombies taking night classes to better understand the human brain that’s what I’ll make my book about and if I want to make it a cheesy romantic boy saves boy drama then I will and that’s will go to the publisher.”

Cas watched as he took a spin on his heel and paused as whoever Frank was taking this news. It was strange as Dean looked at Castiel and Cas titled his head to the side looking at him, not knowing exactly what he was looking at. It was clear from the conversation he was over hearing that Dean was a writer and apparently a published one at that.

“Good, because that’s what people want and that’s what I want; so goodbye Frank,” Dean hung up his phone. Dean resumed leaning against the counter and Cas just didn’t know what to resume doing. He thought about handing Dean the cup of coffee and walking back to the safe haven of his bookcases but the constant reminder of ‘Don’t be afraid” hung in his ears. “I’m a writer. My first book was published last year and you know editors they just don’t stop hounding you to push out another - they want it a certain way and I just-“  
He cut himself off and looked up at Castiel who was looking over at him, interested in every word he was saying. It’s not every day you meet a writer.  
“I’m talking too much, sorry Cas…” Dean grabbed his coffee and went to move away.  
Quickly Castiel rapped on the counter and wrote hastily down on his pad,  
 _No! I mean yes you’re talking but who else here is going to? It’s not everyday I meet a writer._  
Glancing down at the words Cas had just wrote out Dean gave a laugh, “I suppose that’s partly true. Why don’t you come over to this side of the counter and have a cup with me?”

Castiel thought about it and when would another chance like this occur? A handsome writer just inviting him to have coffee? No, Nic thought that. This is rare, especially for him. He stuffed the pad in his apron before grabbing his favorite black thermos that was under the counter he filled it with tea and honey before joining Dean out in the reading area.  
“So what about you? What’s good to know about you Castiel Novak besides working in Grounds For Thought?” Dean asked.  
Cas thought about it. What was important to know about him? Hr found himself shaking his head before any thought came to him and he began writing things down sporadically on the pad he pulled out of his apron.  
 _What can I say about myself? I’m 23 I have a degree in Early Childhood Education from the University of Boston._  
 _I have an Uncle that lives in Winchester_  
That was all Cas could think to write and he handed the pad to Dean to read which he did as he sipped on his coffee.

“You’re a bit of a young one aren't you? I’m nearly thirty or at least I will be when December passes by us again. I assume you like children by the choice in school. What about your parents though, where are they?” Dean asked quietly as he looked over at Castiel sipping his tea. He couldn’t help but to think how adorable the strange quite mute boy was. That was until his body went rigid and tea sloshed out of the thermos he was holding. Had Dean said something that was wrong?

“Cas, are you alright? Did I say something wrong?” Dean reached out to touch Castiel’s shoulder but as soon as contact was made Cas stood up and proceeded to walk to the back of the store where he knew he would find Ellen fighting with the fryers that were always a little too hot.  
He stopped as soon as he was inside the swinging door.

Ellen looked up as soon as she heard the door being swung open and rushed over to wear Castiel stood; a fresh batch of doughnuts lying abandoned on the cooling rack.  
“What’s wrong sweetheart? Was it a customer?” She asked pulling the young man over to a work stool and plopped him down. Cas nodded as he sat his thermos behind him on the table. “Well what happened?”

Castiel began to sign, _**“That customer you gave the last coffee to, the biker? He asked for another and as he was waiting he… I think he was flirting with me. I’m not sure but he was cute so I went for it and we started talking and…”**_

Ellen nodded she had seen it happen a few times in the past five years. Telling by the look on Cas’ face they had reached the point in conversation when the other person asked about Castiel’s parents and he never wanted to talk about that.  
“Did you even give the boy a chance? Tell him you didn’t want to talk about them?” Ellen asked but Castiel just shook his head.

**_“I just ran. He was so interesting. A writer. What am I? Mute”_ ** Cas signed.  
Huffing at the very thought, Ellen picked Castiel back up from where she had placed him on the stool, “Well, Honey that just isn’t true and I bet if you would’ve given that boy half a chance you could see it for yourself. So now come on, go.”  
Ellen pushed Cas back up and out the swinging door but on the other side the shop was empty. Down in the reading area the cup of coffee lingered with steam still rolling lazily off the top. He walked down to it slowly and saw a piece of paper that looked like it had been used time and time again to jot down a thought here or there and then erased but right in the middle in fat black sharpie was a note;

_cas -_   
_it’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it_   
_\- dean_

Castiel found himself smiling quietly to himself. Maybe he should have given Dean more credit and they both wouldn’t have flown away so fast. Moving to the window, Cas looked up and down the road in hopes to see a motorcycle and there wasn’t one. There was always tomorrow.


	2. Two

“You’re stronger than you believe.

Don’t let your fear own you.

Own yourself”

-Michelle Hodkin

Castiel returned to work the next morning listlessly. He had all but forgotten about Dean and their conversation. In fact he had thought about it all night and as he moved around his apartment he couldn’t get the color of his green eyes out of his head. They were just so… Green. In all of Castiel’s twenty-three years of living and of his five years of really being on his own he had never seen someone with such beautiful eyes. Castiel tired himself out daydreaming instead of actually sleeping and found himself lying on his couch slightly confused as to why he was still in his jeans when he woke up. Nonetheless he showered and raced himself to work and was there promptly at eight when Ellen was unlocking the door.

“Looks like someone almost overslept,” She chuckled.

Cas didn’t bother signing anything it was too early and the lazy August sun was already high enough in the sky that he could feel the temperature begin to rise. When they both had made their way inside and Ellen had put her bag in the back room; Cas set out to make the first pots of coffee and hot water for the day while and Ellen checked on the dough for the doughnuts.

“You know what? I think today I might try to make crullers again,” She announced coming from the back a smear of flour across her left cheek.

Castiel shook his head and turned to sign, “ _ **Remember what happened that last time? You couldn’t get the twists right and you just called them lumpy doughnuts**_.” Ellen laughed and Nicolas clutched his own chest as he laughed silently the only evidence of which was the shaking of his shoulders and the slight movement of his head. Just as they both were coming down from their lumpy doughnut joy the bell above the door dinged. Castiel’s head snapped around his mind going straight to the thought of _Could it be Dean_? And instantly being disappointed when it was one of their regulars Mr. Green; he always stopped in for a hot green tea with a lemon wedge to go before work in the morning. Cas got him his cup and rung him out silently.

“Carry on, Cas,” Mr. Green said as he always did and was gone. It was strange. Mr. Green always said that to him and Cas never questioned it, never once until today. _Carry on? Carry on to what?_ Castiel thought to himself. As if on cue the bell above the door dinged again and as if magnetized Cas’ eyes went straight for it and this time he was not disappointed as Dean walked in and watched as he made a beeline for the counter that Castiel stood behind.

“Hey, sorry I took off yesterday. Right after you stood up Frank called again and…” Dean rolled his eyes to show his annoyance with his editor. “I told him that I could always find another editor or another publisher that would like a hundred thousand words on this or that and I really hate talking about myself.”

Dean was flustered and yesterday when Castiel has abruptly left during the middle of their conversation he knew it was because his parents were a sore spot and Dean understood that all too well. It was just bad luck that he touched upon it when he was still working up his mojo. You could say it was even worse lucky that his jackass of an editor called back to chew him out only to quake in fear of being fired. In all truth though Dean didn’t give up that easily, especially on guys that looked like Castiel. The writer in Dean wanted to stay up all night and create a whole novel that was just about Cas and what he would do in that world. The beginning of it was easy enough:

_There was a boy from Boston, Massachusetts. To be too descriptive there was never not a chance. Hair dark as the night and eyes… How could you describe those eyes? As blue as the ocean and as deep - no, blue as the sky and I swear I could see everything in them as I searched for the answers I seek._

Dean swore he had not walked into that coffee shop intending to do anything but order a nice cup of coffee and maybe a place where he could work on his next book. The coffee shop was close to the University, it would help a lot with research. He thought so much about this as he drove over here this morning, hardly concerning himself with the heavy traffic he was weaving his motorcycle in and out of but he was used to it. Soon he found himself in front of the coffee and book shop wondering if Castiel would even want to see him again. It was such a strange thing; to feel so attracted to another person after only know a short time.

So he found himself here now wondering what was going through Castiel’s mind as the last of Dean’s words hung heavy in the air. Dean searched Cas’ face and found his eyes and kept contact with them way beyond the point of friendly.

Castiel retrieved the pad of paper from his apron once more and began to write anxiously and after a minute handed the pad over to Dean who read it almost as anxiously as Cas wrote it.

_It’s okay. Really about everything_

_I may have overreacted_

_Do you want coffee?_

Dean smiled and nodded, “Thanks just Dark Roast is fine.”

Dean watched as Castiel moved behind the counter and he lightly drummed his fingers on the top just waiting. Within a minute Cas was back with a cup of Dark Roast with a little sleeve around it.

“You have work to do, I assume?” Dean asked and Cas nodded and pointed back to the bookcases with a smile. Cute guy or not - nothing was going to tear him away from his one true love. “Ah, the thoughts in _Grounds For Thought_. Mind if I make the little reading area my work place for a little bit then?”

Cas shrugged and shook his head. He on one hand didn’t mind at all. They had a steady flow of morning customers that mostly consisted of coffee to-go drinkers from the University and the book crowd really didn’t pick up until the afternoon when the surrounding schools let out. So Cas watched as Dean made his way down to one of the couches and ‘set up shop’. Which consisted of a laptop and a binder and a array or markers and pens. Hm, he thought, being a writer looks a lot simpler when they show it on television and in movies.

Castiel put the thought out of his mind and moved down to the bookcases and settled himself down on the floor where he had left a pile of books on the floor stacked in a semi-circle a few he had left face down and their spines exposed and wrinkled with wear. These were a couple of his favorites and a few he had yet to read. Quotes were what Castiel took from book. The way simple word-phrasing could just turn a book and turn it from just a book into a classic, a masterpiece. He looked up as he heard Ellen greet a customer that just walked into the shop and thought to himself even more; did writers know which words would become the memorable ones when they were writing? He made a mental note to ask Dean later if he got the chance.

Dean, himself was wondering the exact same thing, only he didn’t quite know it. Sitting down in the reading area, Dean had created himself a perfect place to jump start his book and began researching it. Googling this or that. Was he going with his Zombie approach that had originally led him to Boston? Dean’s eyes kept glancing over his right shoulder to where he knew Cas was and well. Maybe he could do a cheesy romantic story and his Zombie story all in one. Soon it all started clicking in Dean’s head and he begun typing the draft away on his laptop.

Hours passed between the two and when either Dean or Castiel looked up it was three o’clock in the afternoon. Castiel had absorbed himself in a book _The Evolution of Mara Dyer_ by Michelle Hodkin. It was a sequel but Cas couldn’t find the first one anywhere on the shelving. It was gripping though. A psychological thriller told in first person, Mara’s perspective. She was convinced her evil ex-boyfriend was still alive and terrorizing her. Everyone, save for her new boyfriend Noah thinks she’s completely crazy. Castiel was doubting her sanity himself the whole book himself and even Noah until -

“Hey,” Cas’ eyes were ripped up from a very pivotal part of the book. He was almost finished and even though he knew it was going to most likely be a cliffhanger he still didn’t like being interrupted. “Oh, I didn’t see you were reading. Sorry about that.”

It was Dean. Maybe that wasn’t why Castiel didn’t just turn back to his book and continue reading, opting instead to stand and look at him almost expectantly. Dean had wrote nearly six thousand words on his story and that was just the tip of the iceberg. He had so much more to go and a lot of research to sift through. Most people think a book, a story can be pulled from thin air and most can but when you’re using real world names, places and dates - even if fictionalized need to have an air of truth behind them to make the reader believe in the lie of it all. Especially when it came to his idea of an apocalyptic love affair. What he had written in those first few dozen pages was the background, the build up. His characters were just materializing in front of him and he could just taste all of the rich flavors they would be bringing to the table.

Standing, Castiel took the pad from his apron and wrote out a response and handed it over; _No it’s okay Dean. Are you finished writing?_

Upon further thought Cas realized that was a stupid thing to have asked. There was no way Dean could have written out an entire book in six hours. But who knows how good of a writer Dean Winchester was?

Dean shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, “For today at least. I was wondering when you got off work?”

He knew that he was taking a chance in asking the young man out after knowing him for barely a day. Cas wrote down a short response; _I don’t exactly have a set schedule here. Ellen lets me come and go as I please._

Dean was delighted to hear that but he wasn’t sure if Castiel was actually getting what he was saying so he reiterated; “So would you like to go grab a bite to eat with me?”

Castiel looked startled by the proposal and in his confusion dropped the pad and both he and Dean reached down to grab it crashing their heads together in the process.

“Ow,” Dean laughed as he leaned back on his ankles. Castiel looked less than amused by what just happened. He blinked repeatedly to see if that really had just happened. Cas was really beginning to like Dean and he was afraid that he would screw it up as he always did in every relationship. His face had turned down as he began to doubt himself. It was in moments like this he would often hear his mother’s voice and it rung softly in his eardrums at that moment _Don’t be afraid, my Angel._

Castiel grabbed at the pad that had landed next to his foot and jotted down a much happier response than he had originally planned; _I would love to Dean_

The pair traveled down the street to a small restaurant called Charlie’s. The outside looked formal enough for dinner but upon further review once you walked in the door you quickly realized this was a casual-only kind of place. A sign that hung on a post almost as soon as you walked in read: _Seat Yourself - Be With You Soon_. So that’s what they did. Castiel slid in one side of a booth and Dean on the other and they both began perusing the menu that had been lying out on the booth. Castiel was intently reading what exactly made up a Charlie Burger Supreme while Dean on the other side of the booth had decided a cheeseburger, fries, coke and if they had it - a slice of pie. Any pie really. He was a fan of any flavor.

Now he was just studying the guy across from him that had his eyes trained on the menu below him. It wasn’t that there was something wrong with the silence between the two of them like how sometimes when people went out there was always that dreaded uncomfortable silence that people would take as the hint any chance of a relationship between the two was a waste of their precious limited time on this earth. With that thought hanging in the front of his mind, Dean grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and pulled a pen out of his pocket. He always kept one or two nearby when he was writing incase something hit him and his laptop wasn’t immediately in front of him. He heard the _whoosh_ of air as Castiel folded up his menu and placed it back down on the table.

Without out even hearing a question, Dean provided an answer, “I just had a little spark of inspiration. Had to jot it down or I would have lost it and then I don’t know if I would ever catch it again.”

As Dean stuffed the napkin and the pen back in his jeans pocket the waitress came to their table and introduced herself.

“Hello, the name’s Raychelle and welcome to Charlie’s. Were you guys ready to order or did you need a minute?” She sounded less than enthused to be working. That was the general tone of anyone under twenty-five who was in the food industry and Raychelle there looked to be maybe eighteen and annoyed with her life. Perhaps she still hadn’t decided on a college major or she had already and realized too late that instead she wanted to travel and get the hell out of Boston before her hometown ate her alive. Again Dean retrieved the napkin and pen from his pocket and jotted down the thoughts about the waitress that had just ran through his mind.

“I’m all set - a cheeseburger with everything, fries and a coke,” He looked over at Castiel who looked a little frazzled and then it dawned on Dean. The pad and pen were in the apron that Nicolas had left on a cart back at the shop. Dean grabbed another napkin from and dispenser and handed that and his pen to Castiel who mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ and begun writing out his order before handing it to the waitress. She seemed not to be taken back by the exchange in front of her and took the napkin and jotted it down on her on pad of paper before reading their order back to them.

“So a cheeseburger with everything, fries and a coke for you-“ She pointed at Dean. Then pointing at Cas she read back what he had written down for her, “A cheeseburger with pickles, onions and ketchup, side of fries with a sweet tea. Alright it’ll be out shortly.”

She walked away and headed somewhere to the left where there was more patrons and most likely the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized. “I didn’t realize that you had left your pad of paper at the coffee shop and here I was writing stuff down-“

Castiel pushed a napkin into Dean’s hand and it read _Quit apologizing - it’s not very cute._

Cas couldn’t even believe he had the courage to do that but what was that quote? He racked the rooms of his mind, something along the lines of _**‘Sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage…’**_ Cas believed that. He just had to let go sometimes and believe that he could be capable of reaching out and actually holding on to something and not be rejected out of hand because of his disability (or in some cases because of his sexual identity). Dean was smiling. It was that smirk he wore yesterday when he was checking Castiel out before he even had the nerve to stand up and ask for another cup of coffee. Who knew things could go so smoothly?

“Well aren’t you the flirt,” Dean huffed out as he laughed a little as their waitress brought their drinks wordlessly. To Castiel’s own surprise he found himself nodding in agreement. They lapsed once again into an agreeable silence when Castiel remembered the question he had wanted to ask Dean.

 _Dean - do you know what people are going to remember most from your books?_ He slid the napkin over to Dean who had been studying his own napkin and wondering about his new book and what Cas’ reaction would be if he knew how much he was inspiring Dean. Eyes ghosting over the loopy handwriting, a look of dumbfounded thought crossed Dean’s face and his tongue stuck out his mouth just a little. Cas smiled at the thought as he saw the other man focused.

“I would have to say… My ingenious use of the many ways you can find pie no matter where you are. Serious, in my last book I had my main character - his name was Chuck; _god_ I put that guy through the mud but he would always make it better with pie. I had him find it in the usual places y’know like grocery stores and even at the gas ’n’ sip but then random ass places like garage sales and concerts.”

Castiel was confused; what exactly was Dean’s last book about? A man’s constant search for pie? As Dean shook his head and laughed he looked up to see the utterly confused look on Cas’ face, “I guess I didn’t actually explain what the story was about. Let me explain,”

Dean was momentarily interrupted by Raychelle who was back with their food. A whole tray filled with burgers and fries.

“Enjoy, guys,” She was gone. Cas picked up a fry and nodded at Dean to continue or eat, whichever it did not matter to him.

“So, my protagonist - Chuck, is this lackluster guy who isn’t really going anywhere. He just moves without motivation from his job at Ansel & Sons back to his apartment. That’s until one day as he’s helping his sister clean out her garage during a community yard sale he sees this beautiful little brunette girl with green eyes going through a table of board games they had set out. He’s too scared to talk to her until he notices a bee; a little harmless bee just buzzing away on that fine July day. Turns out the girls allergic and of course the bee stings her and that’s when Chuck jumps to action and calls and ambulance and rides with her to the hospital and waits while she gets a shot of penicillin.”

Castiel had, while still listening finished half of his fries and was now writing a response;

_So it’s a love story?_

Dean took a bite of his burger and Cas could have laughed at the look of euphoria that came over his face as he chewed the meat, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions and most important to the fact - cheese. If there was one thing in this world that Dean loved more than pie - no, loved as much; it would be the delicious taste of a greasy burger. No matter where he was, either traveling here or there searching for an idea or his house in Los Angeles. There was always a diner or drive-thru just minutes away.

“Damn that’s good. Think I’ve found where I’m eating for the rest of my time here. Anyways though, yes it’s a love story. I didn’t intend on that at first but that’s what came pouring out funnily enough.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what Dean meant by that last comment but just continued eating. They ate their meal in that comfortable silence from earlier and when they were close to being done, Raychelle walked by and asked if they needed anything else. Dean asked about the pie.

“I’m afraid we don’t have any - there is chocolate cake though, would either of you like a slice?” She looked between the pair. Dean looked over at Castiel; he just shook his head and waved off the offer with his hand.

“Just the check please.”

***

Five minutes later Dean was walking Castiel to the corner of Broadway and Lennox. The sun was just starting to sink in the sky and the color was a beautiful burnt orange. As they hit the the steps that led up to Cas’ apartment Dean took a moment to watch Cas in the sunset. He thought there wasn't a better sight to see in all of Boston.

Procuring the pen and an extra napkin he taken from the diner, Castiel pressed against the stone lined entry way and wrote out; _Thank you for dinner Dean. I enjoyed it very much. Will I see you at the shop tomorrow?_

Dean took the note and nodded, “I think… I’m getting attached to the place.”

Looking up at Cas’ face, he found his eyes and something was sparked there. A silent message and Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder down to Castiel’s bottom lip that had fallen slightly from the top one as their eyes had connected. A voice in his head was yelling too soon and reluctantly he agreed with that small voice.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cas.”

Nodding, he watched as Dean turned on his heel and walked back the same way they had just came from so he could retrieve his bike from the shop. He wondered if Dean had wanted to kiss him and if he did why he didn’t. Cas wouldn’t have stopped him. Maybe he thought it was too soon; and Castiel was fortunate for that. He did, after all only know him less than a week - barely even two days now.

As Castiel wander in the front door and down the hall to his apartment - number 4 - he questioned if the meal that he and Dean had just shared was considered a date. Dean never actually said the words ‘ _date_ ’ or ‘ _go out_ ’. He specifically said ‘ _go grab a bite_ ’. Turning the lock and opening the door he realized that he was worrying too much about something he couldn’t control. Everything happens - for one reason or another. Castiel was sure of that and as he kicked off his shoes and curled himself on the beat up secondhand couch to watch a rerun of _Arrow_ he smiled, assured that no matter what tomorrow brought - today had been great.


	3. Three

“Relationships aren’t something you can prepare for and there’s no such thing as a perfect one. They’re a lot of hard work.”

-Sarra Manning

When Dean got back to his hotel room later he couldn’t sit still. His mind filled with thoughts about Castiel and as he pulled out his laptop and the notes from dinner to begin writing out them out when his face fell as he begun to realize how notes were the only form of communication between Castiel and him.

Wading the note up and tossing it down beside him he minimized the already open Word document and brought up a Google search engine. For a while he stared blankly at the screen, unsure of what he should be searching for, when suddenly his fingers began to hit the keys.

Soon, with a YouTube video playing in the background Dean was manipulating his fingers to sign letters. Apparently you had to learn the alphabet before you could learn words. He wished that he could just learn how to sign, ‘Hey Cas, I’m learning sign language to talk to you.’ But he figured that was advanced or something. There was determination in Dean’s mind though and he wasn’t going to sleep until he learned how to say exactly that to Castiel.

***

Castiel was anxious and every time the bell above the door went off he looked to it with anticipation. Unlike the day before though, he was let down. As the day wore on Ellen could see how the wait for Dean was slowly effecting the quite young man. She had yet to ask him about his date yesterday and was wondering if that was what had him so nervous. Ellen had never in the five years of knowing Castiel ever seen him act this way, especially around about a guy. Of course she knew about his preferred dating but she had never actually seen him go out on a date or at least on a second date. The poor thing, as she would say, needed to let himself be happy.

“So I never asked where you ran off to yesterday,” Ellen quipped from behind the coffee counter with a dish rag in her hand. “I saw Dean sitting out here for quite a while. Is that where you went off to?”

Castiel could practically feel the giddy smile that was on her lips burning a hole in his back as he tried to concentrate on the chalkboard sign that they needed to change since Ellen had successfully gotten the crullers right that morning and they were going to advertise them outside.

“Come on Cas, tell me.”

He sighed unenthusiastically as he dropped the piece of chalk and left an unfinished e to be dealt with later.

**_“He asked me to grab a bite to eat with him. I don’t think it was a date,”_** Cas signed.

“Did he kiss you?” Ellen asked as she threw down the rag and leaned down against the counter.

Castiel shook his head slowly doubting any thoughts he had yesterday about him and Dean. Especially now that the day was nearly over and Dean hadn’t made it to the shop yet when yesterday he said that he would.

“That doesn’t mean anything Sweetheart. Sometimes you can’t rush things,” Ellen advised as she slung her rag over her shoulder and walked down the counter and towards the back room.

Castiel wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it was beginning to rain and there was no use in finishing the chalkboard so he left it and went to the safety of his books.

***

Dean rolled over on his side. His head was swimming with images of hands dancing in front of his eyes. 

Groaning he looked at the bedside clock and mumbled ‘shit’ under his breath. It was half past two in the afternoon; he had slept in way pass the point of late.Cas probably thought he either forgot to show up or just didn’t want to. That wasn’t the impression that Dean wanted to make on him.

Dean threw on a random pair of jeans and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair that he had thrown it down on. He reached down to grab his computer case and with a second thought, let it. He was late enough as it was.

As he hit the parking lot he saw that it was pouring down raining and that was just his luck to see his Bonneville Triumph drenched. He didn’t think about it raining in the middle of August in Boston when he was used to Californian weather. Nonetheless he cleared as much water off the seat as he could and sat down, started the engine and took off completely aware of how much of an idiot he must look like.

As he pulled up to the coffee shop’s front parking he thought he saw Cas leaving and quickly cut the engine to hop off.

Racing after him, he yelled his name, “Cas! Castiel stop.”

The figure turned and gave him a very quizzical look. It was indeed Castiel but he was confused on why Dean was yelling for him. He was also very confused on why Dean was standing there, in the middle of the pouring rain with no umbrella.

Cas hurried to where Dean stood and brought him under his umbrella and he looked relieved.

“Thanks for that - no, wait,” Dean stopped and brought his flattened hand to his mouth and slowly extended it down towards Cas. He watched as Castiel’s mouth fell slightly open and twitched upwards in a smile. Suddenly his fingers snapped into action and begun signing erratically. Dean could only a catch a word here or there. He understood ‘you’ ‘sign language - for me’ and ‘better’ which in Dean’s opinion and short range of knowledge was remarkable.

Dean nodded and this time spoke his response, “I’m learning - that’s why I was late. I stayed up all night on the computer. I just didn’t think it was fair that you can hear me but I can’t hear you.”

That hung in the air so thick and tangible that Castiel could do nothing but open and close his mouth. Thinking of nothing but wanting to thank Dean in some possible way. He was the first man he had ever met that had ever tried to make any kind of relationship with him work instead of just finding out that he was mute and hitting the door as fast as he could.

Without knowing what came over him. Castiel dropped the umbrella and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. His lips crashing against Deans. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, moving one along his back and threading one in his hair. They stood there like that arms wrapped around each other, lips locked until a crack of all-too close lightening jolted them apart.

Pulling back, they looked at each other. Castiel was completely unsure of himself and where he stood with Dean - even after what they had both just done.

Dean on the other hand begun grinning like a fool. He never expected that to happen. He had wanted to take things slowly, and here things were moving faster than he thought they could.

So he laughed smiling , turning his face up to the pouring rain. As he looked back at Castiel who was giving him a questioning look as if to say, ‘ _What is going on?_ Dean laughed again his voice inaudible by a crash of thunder. He spoke loudly to get over the brewing storm, “I never thought a second date could be this wet.”

Castiel’s eyes widened at the word date. So when Dean had asked him out it was a date. Cas knew he shouldn’t have been so nervous about it or worried that Dean didn’t like him as much as he hoped. Now that the proverbial cards were laying out on the table although wet as they may be, what could this mean?

Cas knew they couldn’t stand out here in the rain all night so with a wave of his hand he led Dean back to his apartment on the corner of Broadway and Lennox.

As they stepped through the door of apartment 4, Dean shivered and shook slightly as the cold air and water finally stopped hitting him. Castiel raised a hand, gesturing for him to wait while he went to grab towels. Dean looked around the apartment and noticed the large stack of novels on the coffee table and across from that a tall black case that was stacked with DVDs. From where Dean stood he could make out titles like _Doctor Who, True Blood, The Walking Dead, Supernatural, Gilmore Girls_ and _NCIS_.

It was obvious Cas was a fan of marathoning television series. Beyond that there was a few good choice movies scattered in there _Ten Inch Hero, Boondock Saints, Silver Linings Playbook, Shaun of the Dead_ and even _Love, Actually_. Castiel knocked on the wall to grab Dean’s attention that had been turned to the movies.

“You’ve got quite a collection, all of my favorites,” Dean mentioned as he took the offered towel and began patting himself dry before moving closer to the shelves of movies.

Castiel watching quietly as Dean ran a finger across the spines of the DVD cases just like Cas would a book. He could feel that Dean being here in his apartment going through his DVDs like this was something special. It was something that had never happened for him before and he felt that he should treasure it.

_This_ was special. _Dean_ was special.

Grabbing a notebook and a pen from underneath the coffee table, Castiel before to write out a question he had for Dean and once he was done, rapped on the table to grab his attention as it seemed this was most effective.

“What, sorry - right,” Dean took the notebook in hand and read. His eyes scanning down, mouth twitching up in a smile at Cas’ words. “How is it you’re beating me to everything today?”

Castiel simply shrugged as Dean handed back the notebook.

Dean scratched the back of his head; little water droplets flew from his hair and landed on the couch as he moved to sit down next to Castiel.

“To be completely honest with you Cas, I haven’t had a boyfriend in… God. Six months at least? He couldn’t handle me being gone when I was out on my book tour and called it quits. I guess I could’ve tried harder but there was no give and take. No… _trying_. We both didn’t try to make it work. That’s a relationship we didn’t try to make it work.”

Cas wrote out on the notebook and held it up so Dean could read it from where he sat across from him: _Are you afraid that if we label this as a relationship then it’ll get easy and we won’t try as much?_

Dean shook his head, “I’m not getting that feeling, Cas… With you, it’s something completely different than it was with Ryan. That - that was his name.”

Castiel looked off to the left away from Dean as he thought about what Dean had just said. Really everything he had just said. It sort of made Cas’ stomach drop. But of course Dean had been with other guys. There was nothing wrong with _Dean_. He was a catch. Handsome and talented. Worldly, even you could say. And he had the most amazing accent, all Southern and rich. Gruff with age and wisdom. Just knowing how to twist words so you fall for everything he says.

“Hey, there - I might not be a mastermind at ASL yet but I bet I can tell what you’re thinking,” Dean reached out and touched Cas’ shoulder causing him to look back at him. The look on Castiel’s face was less than happy but he was trying not to show it as he faked a smile.

“Yeah that is completely real. Are you upset because I was talking about an ex? You can do the same. Go on and lay your dirt on me. I won’t run away, promise,” Dean smiled reassuringly but Cas just shook his head. “What do you mean, ‘ _no_ ’? You got to give me something here.”

Castiel looked out in front of him and search the air as if the answer would come to him. Dean was older than him. He had been in more relationships this was obvious, even more so now. How could Cas possibly tell him that he had limited experience dating? And even more limited experience… elsewhere?

He bite his lip and resigned to just write it out. It was the only thing he really could do. He had gotten this far and Dean had yet to run screaming for the hills.

_I’ve never had a serious boyfriend before. Or if I care to think about it an actual boyfriend at all. With being a mute I just stayed to myself. I didn’t want to get hurt. When I put myself out there I was teased. It didn’t seem like a good waste of my time._

Dean read over what Cas wrote and his shoulders dropped. It wasn’t that he was to say surprised or unnerved by this news that Castiel has never had a serious boyfriend. It might be strange to say that he expected it. Though he wouldn’t tell Cas that. No, it was that perhaps Cas thought so little of himself that he didn’t push himself a little more to get out of his shell of movies and books that truly surprised Dean.

“Castiel, you… I don’t care about that. I care about you. And honestly you need to feel better about the person you are. I’ve only know you for what, three days? I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this about any person - let alone just a _guy_ in such a short amount of time. You are engaging and interesting and I just want to know everything about you. Like do you want to get a job as a teacher? I bet you’d be amazing. Or just further your education maybe? _You’d be amazing._ ”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that lit to his lips at Dean talked. Even though his eyebrows bunched together in their own confusion as he thought _how can he think I’m amazing? He’s the amazing published writer._ He knew deep down Dean was right. He was amazing, for some how he had maintained the attention of this gorgeous green-eyed man for three whole days. The effect didn’t seem to be wearing out yet and he was grateful.

Castiel began to write out some sort of response to the rambling Dean had been doing.

_Maybe you’re right? I do have you here in my apartment after all. I guess I’m doing something right._

Dean laughed, showing off his full bright white smile. “Should we watch a movie from your collection then while you have me here?”

He gestured back to the case.

Castiel nodded enthusiastically as Dean rose and sauntered back to pick out a movie for them to watch. He sat back down on the couch moments later and handed Cas a singular DVD case.

_Warm Bodies_

Cas took the case in his hands and ran his thumb over the indentured letters. He could only guess as to why Dean had picked this above every other movie there was to choose from but nodded to the XBOX that was near hidden under a stack of books next to the television. Standing, Dean took the disc out of the case and walked to the game station and proceeded to get it to work. Grabbing the controller, he sat next to Cas, opening the menu and started to fast forward to the first scene of the movie.

It opens up as R contemplates his life. He’s a zombie, yes but he is not entirely brain dead. He wonders how the whole apocalypse happened and what the others around him used to be. Cas started to zone out of the movie around the part where Julie and R are driving the car and it’s abundantly obvious that they are falling for each other - _but how would that ever work?_ The thought crosses his mind as he looks at Dean who at some point kicked off his shoes and thrown his arms across the back of the couch. One of which was nearly draped across Cas’ shoulder.

Julie and R, in Cas’ mind was just an outward look at himself and Dean. They were from two separate worlds. Two completely different people. A nudging voice on one half of his mind said that they weren’t an exception to the universe like that in the movie. They had so many things working against them.

  * Castiel was mute
  * Dean didn’t live in Boston
  * Being Gay still wasn’t the most accepted thing
  * Did he mention that he was mute?



On the other side though, there was a cheering crowd urging Cas to lean into Dean’s open side and say who gives a shit? This was _opportunity knocking_ and he had to open the door. There would always be fear. Fear of the unknown was how to know how good something was about to be.

With a little shake that was exactly what Cas did. He scooted down the couch cushion until he was positioned to lean against Dean and simply laid his head down on his shoulder. Dean didn’t tense up or jump up. On the contrary, the arm that had been resting just above Cas on top of the couch fell to lie on his shoulder bringing him even closer to Dean.

“I chose this movie for a reason,” Dean said quietly as the movie played on. Castiel was losing his focus on the screen as he breathed in the scent of Dean’s shirt. It was damp but trace amounts of coffee, smoke and Dean came through. “I bet you know there’s a book version that’s a lot better than this. The words the writer used were… Well let’s just say it’s one of my favorites.”

Dean was quite as he picked out his next words very carefully. They would come to Castiel’s favorite line he would ever read.

“What wonderful thing didn’t start out scary?”

 

 

_***Dean you signed?! Does that mean you’re learning American Sign Language - for me? So we can communicate better? ***_

_(what Cas signs to Dean on the sidewalk)_


	4. Four

Chapter Four

“The most important things are the hardest to say.”

Stephan King

Castiel didn’t remember falling asleep but as he opened his eyes he found he was tucked underneath the thick black comforter of his bedding. As he stretched he also seemed to find that he was only in his boxers. A deep blush crept across his cheeks knowing that only Dean must have undressed him. Though it may have been moving way too fast; Castiel was grateful. His soaked clothes would only have caused his to catch phenomena.

Moving from the bed and padding across the floor to his closet, Cas begun to pick out an outfit for the day when he heard a clang come from somewhere, he assumed the kitchen.

Confused he dropped the shirt in his hand on the bed and walked cautiously out of the bedroom towards the noise.

Peeking around the corner, he saw Dean; pacing around the kitchen - sans pants and shirt himself. He liked the view he was currently privy to. Even if he didn’t know the cause for it. Castiel continued to watch as Dean cracked eggs and washed the yolks over thick slicks of bread before dropping them in a pan.

He was also frying bacon. Cas wasn’t even aware that he had all of this in his refrigerator. Perhaps Dean had gone out and come back?

_But why?_ Castiel wondered. _Why would Dean do all of this. It’s way too much - especially for me._

Cas slowly tapped on the wall to draw Dean’s attention away from the breakfast foods he was preparing.

Dean turned his head slowly over his shoulder, still keeping one eye on the French toast, “Morning Cas, hope you like bacon.”

There was a smile both in his voice and on his face. After Castiel had fallen asleep last night, Dean carried him to his bed. There had been a slight moral dilemma about if it was wrong or right to take off Cas’ clothes. In the end Dean realized Cas would’ve gotten sick if he hadn’t.

Afterwards he didn’t know if he should stay or go back to his hotel room. Walking around the empty quite apartment for about five minutes, he took off but not before grabbing Castiel’s house key.

He walked back to the coffee shop to grab his back and then the hotel to pick up his laptop before heading back to the apartment but not before stopping off at a 24-hour Walgreens. There was something in Dean that always prevented sleep. He called it his writer’s personality - other’s preferred to call it narcolepsy. In Dean’s mind there was no need for sleep when there was something that just _had_ to be written.

Cas sat down at the small kitchen table as Dean plated the food and poured coffee into a mug for himself. There was a mug of hot water and a teabag laid out for Castiel.

“Bon appétit,” Dean said with a flourish, sitting down and raising his cup in the air. Cas simply turned his head to the side and looked up at Dean in wonderment. He had barely told Cas anything about himself and here he was - sitting in Castiel kitchen eating a breakfast that he made. Castiel wanted to know everything. Starting right now.

Standing and moving away from the kitchen back to the living room, Cas searched out the notebook and from where he dropped it last night.

_Dean - tell me everything about you. From the start. Where are you from? Why did you want to be a writer? Why did you make breakfast?_

Moving back to the kitchen, Castiel sat down and laid the notebook between them. Dean’s mouth was half-full with a piece of French toast; he laughed as his eyes moved across the words.

“Cas, this are some big questions. Really though, why does any one make breakfast these days? It’s a struggle to cook at home - isn’t it?”

Cas stared stone faced at Dean and slowly rolled his eyes. Lips twitching up in a smile he knew he couldn’t resist Dean’s infectious sarcasm. He simply begun to shake his head. Retrieving the notebook Cas, started to write down a new question

_I’m serious Dean - you know a lot about me already and I know… Your last name and that you’re a writer. That’s not much to go on._

A piece of bacon was hanging loosely from Dean’s mouth as Cas placed the notebook back in front of him and his eyes ghosted across the newly written words.

He crunched slowly the piece disappearing and soon was gone. Dean rolled his shoulders and slouched back in the kitchen chair.

“Life story time? Okay… Let’s see, I’m thirty years old. I’ve been in two serious relationships. They were both guys. I hail from the colorful dustbowl of Beeville, Texas - population thirteen thousand. I always wanted to get out of there. If felt too small.”

Castiel understood that a population of thirteen thousand was small. Especially since he knew Boston’s was over half a million and Los Angeles was surely in the millions.

Dean wasn’t meeting his eye as the silence began to grow. He knocked on the table and Dean’s eyes shot up briefly so Cas nodded to encourage him to continue.

“Why I wanted to write? There wasn’t really anything else I was good at. Didn’t have the enthusiasm for sports other than seeing the other guys in the showers and being from Texas that and farming your only two choices for a guy. My dad…”

There was a noticeable hesitation to Dean’s speech at the mention of his father. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten and his lip shook. “Let’s just saw I wasn’t his favorite son, so I wasn’t inheriting the tractor. So, I picked up a pen and it stuck. I moved to Los Angeles, got a publisher and a successful book later I’m here eating breakfast with you. Why, you want to know? Because I thought I’d be a nice guy because I like you Cas.”

To Castiel, Dean looked flustered. If there was something in his past that he wanted to keep from him, or didn’t want to talk about, Nic could understand that completely. He had those same feelings with his parents. Cas remembered the hesitation Dean just had at the mention of his father and wondered if that was it as he watched Dean stand up.

He gathered up his plate and took it to the sink to clean it off. He paused and stood there quietly. He didn’t know why he felt so shaken by talking about his past. Dean knew there was a lot of shit that he was probably leaving out but he didn’t feel like ruining the morning. He wanted this to go right.

Scraping his plate cleaning and leaving it in the sink, he turned back around to where Cas was finally eating a piece of French toast.

Cas looked like he was content with the information that he had gotten and truth be told he was. If wasn’t going to push Dean any further until he was ready as long as Dean did the same for him and, that was the same thought running through Dean’s head.

“So, what plans you got today? The coffee shop?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest loosely. His eyes rested on the younger man as his thoughts drifted off to what they could do today, given if they were both free. That if the day hadn’t already been ruined by a dip into his personal history.

Cas munched on the delicious cinnamon pan cooked bread and thought about it. It was Saturday and Ellen always gave him the weekends off so he could ‘ _get a life_ ’ as she would say. As his eyes flew up to survey down Dean’s body.

He supposed he now had a life.

Finishing the last bite of French toast, Castiel grabbed the notebook and pen from the center of the table and shook his head.

_I have weekends off from the shop. I’m all yours. What would you like to do?_

He held up the notebook for Dean’s inspection and watched as a grin spread to replace the gloomy look on his face.

“That’s great! I was thinking you could show me around town? Boston by a true Bostonian would be a treat. This is my first trip to the city after all,” Dean couldn’t help but look up and down Castiel as he said this.

He couldn’t help but say he wanted to go out when he was feeling like he wanted to stay in and cuddle on the couch like they had the previous night. Dean’s mind though raced pass just cuddling and began to play a game of baseball, his batter eager to move across the bases. Mentally he shook himself. He wanted things to work with Castiel and knowing about his near nonexistent experience put things to a crawl.

Dean was willing to take baby steps if that meant keeping this interesting, quite young muse in his life.

Castiel nodded and turned the notebook back to himself to write a response to Dean’s question. As the letters fell from the the pen in his hand Cas wondered about how well things really were going between him and Dean. He knew better than to question good things.

The old ‘ _When life hands you lemons_ ’ line never got tired but Dean was anything but a lemon. If anything he was a shiny red apple that had somehow managed to roll over to where the rotten, misshapen pears are.

_***_

As the day wore on Castiel and Dean toured around Boston taking in the sites.

Cas showed him the University including the gigantic campus library where as a student he spent countless nights emerged in books. Much the way he did now at the coffee shop - only with the help of a functioning dewey decimal system.

They took a cab to the coast and watched the tide go out as they sat on the beach. Cas had his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms crossed on top of them. His mind was filled with recent memories of their day.

Eating streetcar food while walking along the Quad. Petting a dog that passed by them as they walked pass Fenway Park. Dean commented that he’d love to see a game and Castiel could only smile now as he watched Dean sitting cross legged next to him, phone in hand.

Dean’s iPhone was clicking away his hand. As he chewed the inside of his mouth he saw that the game for tonight was sold out but the game tomorrow still had box tickets.

With less than five clicks, he and Cas were well on their way to the Red Sox versus Mariners game.

“Okay Operation Fenway is a go,” Dean announced as he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

Cas turned his head small smile on his face. Still confused as he was that Dean was still next him like he had been all day. Castiel was happy and determined to stay that way for however long as possibly.

Pulling out his phone he opened up an empty text message.

When?

“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ve never been to pro game, have you?”

Cas shook his head and looked down at his phone.

Living in Boston had its up - Like the University, the coffee shop and the many understanding people that resided in places like this.

There was the downs though too - Fenway Park, Boston Harbor, and the not-so understanding people that liked to dwell there.

It’s not that Castiel intentionally avoided these places - on the contrary, Uncle Bobby took him to a Red Sox game when he was seven years old and he enjoyed it deeply. That is until his Uncle went to get them hot dogs and nachos. Leaving Castiel alone and the young boy soon became frightened.

Unable to cry out for his Uncle - silent tears fell from his eyes.

He brought a lot of attention to himself as multiple people turned to ask the little boy what was wrong and where on earth his parents were - That question only brought more tears to the little boys eyes.

What seemed like hours, was only twenty minutes. Uncle Bobby had been caught in a long concession line and one he got back found little Castiel, face red and wet. The other adults looked at the decorated army Veteran as if had killed someone.

_Why did he leave this kid all alone?_

_And what the hell was wrong with him?_

Nothing that any of them would understand; that was for damn sure.

Cas could remember his Uncle grabbing him up in his arms and carrying him out of the stadium.

They never went to another game.

_***_

The next morning Dean was once again carelessly cutting through traffic on his motorcycle. Yesterday had been great. A third date for a third day in a row and this would be number four. After he had walked Castiel back to his apartment around eight after the sun set, Dean sped back to the hotel and sat down in front of his computer.

Half of his screen split to watch ASL videos and then other his Pages document.

His fingers typed away until he began to feel his knuckles hurt. When Dean looked up it was closing in on one in the morning.

He rubbed his eyes, stretching his back. Bones and muscles stiff with the tension of sitting still for too long. Closing the laptop, Dean stretched out on the couch beneath him.

His dreams filled with the sunset and Cas’ ever-present smile. Though the deeper he fell asleep, the dream began to twist.

A beautiful two story red brick and white wood come to vision. It’s setting was country-side with an enamored red barn adjacent that was roughly the same size of the house.

A corral was next to the barn with horses grazing.

A young man was leaning against a post. As the scene shifted to be closer; you could see the young man’s face it was red and wet - clear to any eye he had been crying.

Why was the only question.

The young man turned his face to watch as a black and white spotted Appaloosa mare trot across the corral and there we see the cause of his tears.

The area around his right eyes was darkening to form a perfect circular bruise.

Out of his subconscious Dean shifted uncomfortably as this. He remembered it all almost too perfectly.

The black eye was a testament to his father’s anger.

Dean was sixteen and his father had found him in the barn loft making out with the quarterback of the high school football team.

Dean did not regret making out with the other boy - how he came out to his father, yes. Gay was who he was - it was a part of him and he always knew. Just after that day so did his mom and dad.

 

Knocking on Cas’ apartment door at exactly twelve-thirty it took mere seconds for the door to swing open and reveal Castiel. He was wearing a white tee shirt with the Red Sox logo and destroyed jeans. There was shy, uncertain smile on his face as he waved at Dean.

“All set to go?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded and walked into the hallway to lock the door.

As they made their way out and onto the sideway, Dean paused.

“Would you want to ride on the bike? It’s cool if you don’t. Just save some time is all,” Dean walked forward to lean causally against the Triumph Bonneville.

Cas looked at it as he had many times - but he had never considered actually riding on it.

_It looked safe enough_ Cas assumed. _And surely Dead was a good driver. What harm could there possibly be?_

His hand made quick ‘O’ and ‘K’ signs.

“Awesome,” Dean gripped the handlebars and swung a leg over before offering his helmet to Cas.

He took it graciously before climbing on the back of the bike. His legs sliding around Dean’s body and Cas could feel the blush on his cheeks.

“Might want to wrap your arms around. Just to be safe,” Dean quipped and without hesitation Cas slid his arms around Dean’s chest.

Ten minutes later they were pulling into the parking garage across from Fenway Park and soon finding their seats. As Castiel was led to the seats - he was surprised to see the secluded box that was so close to the field.

About fifteen minutes after the opening pitch, Dean could feel his stomach growl. His hand was lying ever so gently on top of Cas’ on the adjourning armrest between them. With a squeeze, Cas looked up from watch a ‘bang-bang play’ He had been wearing a toothy smile since the game had started.

Cas had forgotten how much he truly loved this game - the horrible memory from when he was seven years old had prevented him from ever returning, even on his own, ever again but sitting here with Dean had changed the nervous ball of jitters in his stomach into a calm ocean of foul balls.

“Hey, I’m going to grab us some food - what do you say, hot dogs and beer?” Dean waited until Cas signed _okay_ again. He was halfway out of his seat before he plopped back down, leaned over the armrest and placed a chaste kiss on Cas’ cheek.

Cas smiled and only turned to his eyes to see Dean’s back retreating.

It wasn’t long before Castiel immersed himself once again in the game to see a batter from the Mariners start to strike out. As the pitcher began to wind up for the last pitch, Cas heard a couple behind him start snickering.

“Well looks like the fags have invaded Fenway Park, eh Mark?”

Cas could feel the eyes on him but squared his shoulders and kept his eyes on the pitcher - he could tell it was going to be a curve ball from the stance he had taken.

A sharp poke came right in the middle of his shoulder blades causing Cas to jump and he instantly turned around in his seat.

Behind him he saw a very large man with a short black unkempt beard that covered most of his face. Next to him was an equally large woman with huge black curly hair. It looked greasy and as he took in their surroundings, saw several used plastic beer cups.

He also took note that the woman had mustard on her cheek and as her lips parted to sneer at him, saw that her teeth matched the color of the condiment.

“Boy, you are a young’n. Got so much time to change your evil ways - God doesn’t want any faggots and he sure as hell below us doesn’t want them in our baseball field,” Cas could only stare at the greasy man.

“Is there something wrong with him, why ain’t he talking?” The greasy woman leaned herself forward until she was less than an inch from Castiel’s face.

“Speak up, ya fairy.”

Out of nowhere amber liquid poured from the sky and drenched the couple.

“Sorry, so sorry. I tripped on a step and completely spilled my beer all over you,” Cas’ eyes shot up to see Dean standing directing beside the man on the step and not even trying to hide his smile.

In a flurry of movement Dean came to sit back down next to Castiel and in moments the couple, angry and wet were gone.

“Were they being dicks, or what? I only caught the end of the conversation,” Dean placed the remaining cup of beer on the ledge in front of him along with the two hot dogs and nachos he managed to carry.

Castiel shrugged his shoulders slightly before grabbing a hold of Dean’s hand to fully take his attention from the food in front of him.

Dean looked back at Cas, concerned. He really did only catch the end of the conversation where the woman had called him a fairy and that didn’t fly with him. He didn’t know exactly how much it bothered Cas though - because that’s not what was bothering him.

“What is it? What did they say to you, because I can-“ Dean gestured back up the steps but Cas raised his hand and brought out his phone and started typing out on it.

Patiently, Dean waited; he watched intently as Cas’ thumbs moved across the phone. The baseball game played on without them.

_It’s not really what they said that bothered me - it’s what they remind me of. They remind me people who don’t understand. They remind me of when I was seven. My Uncle brought me here to my first game and he left just like you did. I got scared and started to cry but I couldn’t tell anyone. He came back and we left. I never went to another game though._

Castiel handed the phone to Dean and he read it once and then twice again.

“I’m sorry,” He said in a low voice. Dean felt angry with himself. He hadn’t thought about what leaving Cas alone in the stadium would entail and he should have. “I should have thought about that and didn’t. I’m a fucking idiot."

Castiel shook his head and took his phone back.

_No. I’m a much stronger person than that. Or at least I should be. The thing is, that I should have been completely honest with you about this place._

Dean looked up from the proffered phone and looked at Castiel.

“About everything?” It came out more questioning than he had intended. If anything Dean was questioning himself more than Castiel. Open-ended honestly was the key to any relationship; hadn’t he just been saying that the other night?

_Everything is a good place to start but I know we both have things we’d like to keep secret at least for now._

Swallowing some kind of invisible lump in his throat Dean looked out on to the field where the batter had hit the ball out of the field for a home run. It was a perfect game for the Red Sox, the Mariners were going home losers.

“Yeah, you’re right,” People were getting up and leaving the stands. “But there’s no saying we can’t start breaking down walls.”


	5. Five

Chapter Five

“You don’t love someone because they’re perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they’re not.”

\- Jodi Picoult

Dean took Castiel by the hand and followed the growing queues out of the stadium. He had to get back to Castiel’s apartment before this spurge of confidence wore off of him. He was willing to shed off his layer of protection, the one that he usually wore in every relationship and tell Castiel the real reason he ran from Texas. The real reason he never stayed with a guy for more than a year or two.

As they found the motorcycle in the parking garage and Dean climbed on, helping Cas on in the process; he gunned the bike on tearing out of the garage. He felt Cas grip at his sides and slowed slightly.

Within minutes they were back outside the apartment and Castiel hopped off quickly. Dean jumped off quickly and saw that Castiel was sitting on the raised concrete garden wall outside of the apartment. He raised his hand to his forehead, open palmed and slowly brought it down before bring in his index, middle and pointer fingers while sticking out his pinky and thumb. Then he pointed to the motorcycle.

Cas did this a few times with a shake of his head.

“Why did I go so fast?” Dean started to understand what Cas was trying to tell him. Cas nodded.

“I knew that if I didn’t come back here as fast as I could then I would loose my nerve and I want to be completely open and honest with you Castiel. I’m pretty sure I’m told you that I want this to work out and I do. It’s all that I want.”

Castiel blushed.

He stood up and waved Dean to follow him on into the apartment building.

Soon they were settled back into the couch, shoes off and they were sitting on opposite sides but their feet were touching. The notebook and pen were once again sitting comfortably in Cas’ lap. If they were going to be spilling their guts one hundred percent to each other then it needed to be completely understandable conversation. No sign language.

_Do you want to go first Dean?_

Castiel held up the notebook. Dean nodded and let out a long breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. Licking his lips he started in, going back to the story that he had told Castiel the previous day.

“Remember how I was telling you about where I was from and stuff. Well I never really mentioned my family. Well My mom died when I was four and that left me and my younger brother Sam, he was six months old then just with our dad John. He was a decent parent - for awhile I guess but he took mom’s death the hardest. He pushed the responsibility of raising Sam on me and just left for a solid six months. We had a farm to keep up and do you how hard that is for two little boys? A fourteen year old and ten year old? Sam ran away for a week. I almost failed out of high school…” Dean trailed off as horrible memories of a un-lived childhood came flooding back to him.

Castiel scribbled out on his notebook.

_What can I say? It’s such a terrible thing. What happened?_

Dean was swept into his memories and the words began to pour out of his lips once more.

“Eventually my dad came back from wherever, whatever he had been doing. It was somewhere with a lot of booze. I knew that for a fact because he reeked like old laundry. Sam and me tried to be normal kids after he came back, you know? I already _knew_ who I was. I started hitting on guys and some times I would get dirty looks but sometimes - like with the quarterback of the football team. We had been in the loft of the barn messing around and I didn’t even hear my dad. I thought he was out in the field plowing or in town. _Something, somewhere else_. But he came right up the ladder and punched me in the face and he didn’t want to stop but Jensen - that was his name - picked up the pitchfork in the corner and was going to stab him with it if he didn’t quit.”

Castiel slammed his hand down on the notebook and shook his head in protest. He was devastated that something like that had happened to someone like Dean. What kind of person hurts their children in any way, shape or form?

Dean waited to see if Cas wanted to write anything down for him to read but his hand was silent in response and for a moment so was Dean. He had never shared that with anyone, not even Sam. His brother knew that his older brother and father had some sort of falling out but merely assumed it was over Dean not wanting to take over the farm.

“Sam never found out and he still doesn’t know. I just started to avoid dad. It was only another year and a half after that that I would graduate and as soon as I did I took off to LA. I knew that if I went back I wouldn’t be welcomed.”

Castiel started to write out things on his notebook and turned it around for Dean to read.

_Dean this is unbelievable. I just don’t understand how a parent could possibly hurt their child. Don’t they understand how important they are? How much they mean? Parents are suppose to be there. I just don’t understand._

_And your brother - what happened to him?_

Dean read over the first part of what Cas wrote a few times. Castiel focused on _parents_ a lot right there. Was there something to that?

“Sam made it out okay. He ended up going to Texas A&M and became a lawyer - can you imagine that? Well our dad definitely couldn’t. Didn’t matter anyways. He got remarried and had another son. Named him Adam; I’ve never met him but he’s only fifteen. I just hope he’s had a better childhood then me and Sam did.”

Dean was very sincere about that. He would never in a thousand lifetimes wish his formative years on anyone else.

_Well that’s good. You both rose above and made something of yourselves. That says something._

They both were quite and Dean knew that he wanted to say something else. He wanted to explain more to Cas - more about who he was, and why this _thing_ that he felt for Cas was so important.

“I’ve never stayed in a relationship for longer than a year. Two at the most. That’s because I always felt…”

The words were stuck in his throat. He couldn’t get them out and looked to Castiel in hopes that he could pull them out for him.

_Unworthy?_

He offered. Dean shook his head in response before continuing, “Yeah, I didn’t feel worthy - I didn’t feel like I could give them back want they wanted to give me. Real love. I wouldn’t let myself open up. I wouldn’t get to _this point_ right here where we are right now. It’s only been a week and look at us. I’m spilling my biggest secrets. I don’t know what it is about you Cas but it’s… Something.”

Castiel could feel the blush creep up on his cheeks and nest there for a minute. Silence enveloped them for a while before Castiel realized that it was now his turn to crack and open his wounds to Dean.

_I don’t know if I can do this Dean. I’m not sure if I can write it down and it be legible._

Dean took Castiel’s hands into his own.

“I know. I know it’s a scary feeling to open up about things with a practical stranger but I’m here for you. I’m never going to leave. I swear it. You can trust that you’ll see my face practically every day for the rest of your life. It’s a weird notion but I feel that inside. So please trust me with what ever is going on inside of your head.”

Castiel nodded and slowly took his hands back from Dean to start writing. It was a slow process as he worked his mind around what he wanted to say and how to say it. The only heavy burden Castiel carried with him was one that he was daily reminded of. In so many ways.

_When I was four years old I was in a car crash with my parents. We had been headed to my Uncle Bobby’s in Winchester. My parents had been fighting the whole day before we left the house but I’ll never remember what about. It was raining and we were going down a curvy patch of road. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt when we crashed and was thrown around. I was terrified I remember screaming for my mother but nothing came out. There was so much blood. Everywhere. There was glass imbedded into my arms and a huge piece was in my throat. My parents died and I lost my voice. For the longest time I thought I was broken waiting to be fixed like a toy but when I turned seven and went to school and they put me in all of theses special classes I knew I would never be fixed. I’m what I am._

It took Dean a solid five minutes to read through what Castiel wrote and comprehend it completely.

“Cas you are not a broken toy. How could you think that? What happened to you it’s… It’s a tragedy but there’s not a damn thing wrong with you,” Dean got a thoughtful look in his eye. “What’s that song from that one movie? What makes you different makes you beautiful! Yeah that, that is totally what’s going on with you Cas."

Castiel looked at Dean doubtfully. He knew what Dean was saying was true, his disability wasn’t exactly a death wish but it’s not like Dean had to carry it personality. Cas always carried himself with pride but doubt weighed on his shoulders.

_You don’t carry this with you Dean. I do. It’s difficult because I wasn’t born this way. I have memories of speaking, laughing, crying - screaming and doing it with my parents too. I can come off confident about who I am but the doubt that comes with my confidence is too heavy sometimes._

Dean nodded. He may not be able to relate but he could understand. The inevitable silence descended upon them and it was comfortable for a while. Until Castiel’s stomach growled and Dean laughed.

“Well at least I can understand some things you say.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

_We didn’t eat the hot dogs or nachos at the stadium._

“So what do you say? Pizza and some movies? What ever you want to watch, alright?” Dean suggested as he brought out his phone to Google a pizza shop to order phone.

Castiel nodded and stood up to pick out something for them to watch.

This felt great. It really did. It had been a week and Cas could feel them slowly getting into a groove. The thought that Dean would be here every day for ever was starting to sink into his mind and he liked the idea. He wouldn’t let him say he felt more than that just yet. It was still so fresh, so new.

Thumbing through spines of DVDs he listened as the smooth tenor of Dean’s voice ordered their pizza. He could imagine listening to the smooth tenor ordering their dinner for the rest of their lives. Or at least until they got old and grey.

Picturing Dean old, grey and with a slight pudge to his middle came easily to Castiel’ mind and he smiled at the image. Especially when he saw himself next to Dean. They were not as they were now, sitting in this apartment but out in a countryside somewhere. Maybe California though since Dean lived there. Or Texas, perhaps? They were rocking on a swing and there was children everywhere. Did they adopt? Or were they his brother Sam’s?

The thought of children had never crossed Castiel’s mind before because it never had a reason to. If he dated, it never went past one date or the max of three because that’s what polite people do, they let you down easily.

Dean wasn’t polite nor was he rude. He had no reason to be. Because he wasn’t going anywhere.

Castiel smiled as he pulled a season of True Blood from the shelf and placed the first disc into the DVD player. Settling back down on the couch, he was pulled into Dean’s arms. As the first episode of the vampire series began to play on the screen, they cuddled on the couch.

Dean wasn’t showing it externally but on the inside he was breathing a sigh of relief. It was rolling off of him like ocean tides. He was happy that his impromptu rush of confessions. He supposed that it could have gone a completely different way. Castiel could have shook his head and told his flat out _No, I am not doing this Dean. I can’t - not now, at least._

He lucked out though.

Dean had felt very lucky about everything this past week and he could just see the days, weeks, months hell even years of his life floating on by just like this, Castiel lying in the crook of his arm with Dean’s fingers running through his smooth dark hair.

The pizza man came and went. They dug in and it was a calm silence they ate in. Slow munches over the screams and moans that perpetrated the air.

Could this be their relationship? Movies, pizza, shedding their skins to each others in-between baseball games and writing sessions.

They were both content as the pizza disappeared slice by slice and as Castiel had his fill he leaned back against Dean’s arm. So happy for the first time in his life. It could only get better from here.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is nsfw // rated nc-17  
> just a warning for those that need it.

“I got lost in him, and it was the kind of lost that’s exactly like being found.”

\- Claire Lazebnik

 

 

Time started to fly by. August’s red hot heat cooled to September’s rain that became an October chill and then out of no where it was November sweater weather. The fall became a blur. Days passing, weeks becoming months. The clock ticking and the calendar flipping.

Dean and Castiel were unaware of this entirely. It was only when Dean received a phone call from his editor - Frank. He was raving about the rough draft of the book Dean had been working on.

“This is some good stuff Dean-o. Another best seller that’s for sure. You’re hitting everything on the check list. Love, zombies, gore. The fans will eat it up.”

Dean couldn’t hold back his smile. The whole story - sans the zombie - was Castiel and himself. What he imagined for themselves; two people lost in a world searching for something - _someone_ in a world gone crazy.

“Thanks Frank that means so much,” Dean laughed, holding back any real resentment he usually had for the older, balding man.

“We’re going to need you to fly back home to come into the main office and talk over some things though - you know the characters, cover art choices. Typical stuff.”

Dean thought about that as he looked around his surroundings. He was back were everything first started. _Grounds For Thought_. Cas was sitting on the floor in front of him, resting against his legs reading a book that easily had three times the number of pages any of Dean’s ever will have. The smell of coffee was constantly lingering in the air along with a doughy sort of burnt smell.

This place had become home in four and a half months.

Los Angeles, as strange as is sounds was no longer the place where he saw himself when he thought of that word. Hell is wasn’t a place anymore. It was wherever Castiel was.

“When would I have to come back?” He asked quietly. It wasn’t quite enough. Castiel’s head titled at the sound of Dean’s voice. Some secret inflection of worry? Anxiety? His words were laced with something, but Castiel wasn’t sure with what as he didn’t know who Dean was speaking with. His interested piqued he laid down the book entirely and watched as Dean nodded, to himself mostly and then hung up the phone.

Castiel brought his right hand to his chin and then wiggled his pointer finger.

_Who was that?_

“It was my editor, Frank going on about my book. He was saying that I’ll have to go out to LA to go over some fine details and the cover art before we can move on from the rough drafting stage.”

Castiel nodded.

It hadn’t really ever dawned on him before that moment that Dean did not live here in Boston. He knew it, it was a part of one of the first conversations they had had but over the part four months of knowing him, Cas couldn’t imagine Dean being anywhere else. It was a odd thing. He had never been in a relationship that lasted this long before and everything was new and exciting.

In early October they had a picnic on the beach and somehow Dean had talked him into returning to Fenway Park once more, though when Dean went to get the food Cas went with him. They hadn’t missed a home game that entire season.

Dean was thinking the whole time as he waited for Castiel to sign a response, it didn’t really come except for a short O-K with a head tilt. He felt like he was hiding something from Cas, which partly he was - he had never really shared with Castiel what the story was about. He had given him a pretty good synopsis one night on the couch as Dean typed out chapter twenty, the last chapter before he .ZIP-ed and shot it out to Frank.

“It’s a love story, with zombies and a lot of blood but - it’s a love story. Think, The Walking Dead meets Twilight but no creepy Robert Pattinson,” that had made Castiel smile.

Now Dean thought maybe he should have just came clean right now about the whole thing, and said this, _“It’s about us Cas. You and me. Us - if we were caught in a plague ridden world how I would fight for you and we would win because love conquers all.”_

“W-would you want to fly out with me? See Los Angeles?” Dean offered to Castiel whose eyes widened, wordless.

Unable to move his hands, he simply nodded as he jumped up and leaned into Dean, kissing him. It was all one fell swoop.

Even with as nervous as Dean felt he laughed, hands tangled themselves in Nic’s hair and he kissed back feverishly. Almost like the changing of seasons that they had missed, the time between the days at the coffeeshop and the days until the trip to Los Angeles went too fast. They found themselves at Los Angeles International Airport after a connecting flight in Dallas and soon were on their way to Dean’s apartment in the downtown area.

To say Dean had an apartment was an understatement by large. Two floors, with a garage that was all his. It was a cross with a duplex and small house but Dean liked the looser term of apartment. It made it feel less permanent than _house_.

Castiel pointed at Dean, circling his open palms around grabbed at the air and then hit his fists together.

_How long have you lived here?_

“Uh, six years ago? I know it looks like I just moved it but that’s just because I’m never here.”

Castiel nodded and slowly walked around, exploring the cluttered place that seemed no less a home than Dean’s hotel room. Just a place to sleep. Even though they had been together for four months now had they had still yet to take that plunge to deepen their relationship. Every night Dean would go back to his hotel and Castiel would retreat back to his bedroom.

It wasn’t without thought or provocation from either of them, trust, it was there.

Castiel walked up stairs and threw his suitcase down on the bed, guest or otherwise didn’t matter for the matter. He assumed that this was Dean’s and they would figured out the sleeping arrangement later. He knew that Dean’s meeting with his publisher was in a hour or so.

“Hey, there you are - did you want to come with me to the meeting? Maybe grab some food when I’m done? It won’t take long, promise,” Dean’s hair was wet and he was wearing a different shirt than he had on the plane.

Cas nodded but held up a figure. Dean and Cas had learned a form of short hand, since Dean had learned a lot of sign language but there were limits and who didn’t enjoy short cuts?

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be downstairs,” And he was gone.

Castiel tore open his suitcase and pulled out a shirt and then another one. Which one said I belong here better?

Half an hour later they arrived at Collins Company; a new and upcoming book publisher that loved innovative, out of the box people like Dean. Or as Frank would say, ‘those young kids just love reading about secret pain and you kid have a million dollars worth’. They weren’t joking either.

Dean and Castiel sat in a large meeting room on one side of a long marble table where some receptionist had placed a glass pitcher of water and several small matching glasses. Moments after they walked in and sat down, two men and a woman wearing glasses walked in. Castiel had expected business suits and a stuffy atmosphere but they were wearing jeans, the woman looked to be wearing fishnets even.

“Mr. Winchester it’s so good to see you - on short notice too,” Frank, the man in the middle spoke. There was no such thing as short notice. Frank had called him a week and a half ago. Short notice would have been twenty minutes or a day at best.

But Dean just nodded, “Yeah, yeah - what is it you wanted to talk about? Frank, you know I don’t give a damn about cover art what ever artist I had last time is cool and knows what I like. It has to be something with my story.”

Dean got straight to the point. If he was being honest, he was nervous with Cas there. _True_ he had invited him both to LA and to the meeting but he was going to come clean about the book one way or another and this was probably the best place to do it.

The woman on the far right in the fishnets spoke, “You’re right Dean - it is the story, we want you to change just one little thing. It’s not much just - and don’t take this the wrong way but, the homosexual love story. It might be a hot thing right now but we have to look out for the long run.”

She made a move with her hands like she was on fire and Dean wished she really was.

Dean felt himself rise from the chair and at first he thought it was one of those out of body experience things, but no he really had stood and he started to spit out his words.

“Not much? That’s the whole **fucking** story. It’s not the zombies or blood that’s important it’s the love story. It’s two guys yeah but who gives a fuck? Oh that’s right homophobic assholes like you lot do you. Did you know that the writer in front of you is gay? Or that this is my boyfriend? And that I love him?”

The silence that followed Dean’s speech was deafening. He looked each of the publishers in the face but they adverted his eyes, before he grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him from the room.

Much the same as when they had left that first Red Sox’s game, Dean had the pedal pressed to the floor in the classic 1967 Impala and didn’t let up until they were outside of the apartment.

They sat inside of the car, engine off for about five minutes until Castiel rubbed Dean’s shoulder. Cas stared into Dean’s eyes for what felt like forever before he pointed at his heart, crossed his arms over his chest and then pointed at Dean.

_I love you, Dean._

Thoughts continuously raced through Castiel’s mind as they fell through the bedroom door. Dean’s lips never left his as they walked the few feet from the door to the bed and it was as if some magic was happen as Cas’ trench coat disappeared to the floor and Dean’s leather jacket slipped from his shoulders.

They broke apart for a breath; Cas was lying on the bed beneath Dean and there was something there in his eye. It was hunger, need for the man beneath him.

In the pit of his stomach, pushing pass his nerves he could feel it too. _He wanted Dean_.

They had been together for four months now and the trust was there, the love was there. Castiel might not be able to say it but he could feel it with all that he had.

He was in love with Dean Winchester.

That hunger that Cas could see in Dean’s eyes - Dean was feeling through-out his whole body.

For the pass four months he had been holding back what he was truly feeling for Cas, which was everything. All those things, all those feelings had surfaced tonight when he had marched out of his publisher’s office. They had won. There was something more to become of everything that was happening between them.

Castiel was inspiring Dean and now he knew.

Dean had never been so honest in a relationship before and that’s why he knew this was the real thing.

He had never told another person that he loved them before, not even his ex - not that that’s the person he wanted to think about right now. All Dean wanted to think about was Castiel.

“D-do you…?” The question wasn’t even properly formed but they both knew what he meant and Castiel nodded without much hesitation even though as Dean’s body weight left him to retreat to the bathroom, his mind was suddenly overcome with thoughts.

_Holy shit. What am I doing?_

_I don’t know how this is supposed to go down._

_I’ve never done this before._

_He won’t love me after this._

**_I have to get out of here. Now._ **

Standing up abruptly, Cas looked to the bedroom door and to where his trench coat had been thrown. He made a move to go grab it but was stopped by the sound of a speaker crackling on and then a soothing acoustic guitar came over along with a soft masculine voice.

_“What can I offer you? I know you’ve had a drink or two…”_

Dean emerged from the bathroom with a bottle and condoms in his hand, “I know it’s… It’s some Spotify station. I thought it might be, romantic?”

Dean set the bottle on the bed and then looked up to where Cas was standing in the middle of the room, listening to the words of the song. They were lovely _and_ romantic.

A line caught his ear, _“What can I do for you that other men haven't done to you… “_

Dean was humming along and he reached out for Castiel’s hand to pull him back to the bed and out of his cationic state before the music got him thinking too much.

Dean knew he should’ve known better than to turn on the music but he was hoping that Cas would focus much more on what they were doing than words in a song.

“Are you nervous? Scared? If you are, you got to tell me. If I do something you don’t like, you have to tell me. If I hurt you-“ Castiel put his lips to Dean’s so he would shut up already and he got the hint.

Yeah he was nervous and scared that he would do something wrong but there was no way Dean would ever hurt him. That was something Cas was for sure about.

Dean needed no further encouragement as one hand traveled slowly down to Castiel’s ass cupping it as he pushed his hips into Cas’ and guiding him to the bed once again. He moaned and his own hands found Dean’s backside, rolling his hips in return.

_Follow your train to its last station_

_Follow, follow, follow_

Clothes were torn off and soon the two were left naked and exposed in front of each other. Simply staring at each others naked body. Castiel’s face turned red in the darkened room and his fingers fumbled to try to form a coherent word. He wanted to tell Dean that he was _beautiful, handsome._

Something that hopefully didn’t sound cheesy and under climatic. But his trembling fingers were silenced with Dean’s own thrown over his. “Slow and steady, alright?”

Dean cupped Castiel’s face in his hand and bit at his lower lip kissing him before his hand traveled down the length of his Cas’ torso.

As Dean had Castiel distracted with the kiss, he grabbed the bottle of lube next them on the bed and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand. He nudged Castiel’s legs wider with his elbows as he rubbed the liquid in his hand to warm it.

Castiel’s back arched as Dean grabbed his cock and movement startled him. Dean thumb traced over the head of his cock, toying with the slit all the while keeping an eye on Cas’ face with a worried expression but Cas was blissed out at the sensation of Dean touching him.

He moved on, and begun to gently circle his index finger around Castiel’s asshole, coating it in lube. Cas bit his lip as he felt the strange pressure increase and then gasped as he was breached.

Dean watched closely, not retreating as the tip of his index finger slip inside. Castiel lifted his hips in response, and he sighed to Dean’s relief as he pushed in even further slowly and carefully. Castiel readjusted and looked up at the ceiling unbelieving that this was really happening.

Dean ran his other hand up and down Cas’ hard shaft; he started to withdrawal his finger and then reinserted it with more ease this time. He repeated this several times until Castiel’s hips bucked forward.

Slowly he added another finger and then another until Cas began to move against him; Dean watched this - transfixed on the happenings in front of him. Castiel reached down and took his own cock in his hand and began to pump from where Dean had neglected it in his staring off, taking the moment he withdrew his fingers completely at once.

Castiel felt a weird wanting, empty sensation without the fingers there but watched in ernest as Dean ripped open a condom and rolled it over the thick head of his cock. Dean reached for the the lube and coated his condom covered cock with a generous amount of the slippery substance.

Castiel shook nervously as he watched Dean lean down over him and for a quite moment there was nothing but their breathing. Castiel reached up and pulled Dean just a little bit closer; his eyes were completely open as Dean pushed himself inside, just a little bit at first. Dean waited and watched Cas’ face for any sign of pain before continuing and then pushed further, slow but steady and Cas arched up into him. Instinctively, he wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, heels digging into Dean’s backside. His fingernails left red marks down Dean’s shoulders.

Their movements were slow, deliberant. This wasn’t hot, porn sex. Something you would read about in an online fan fiction about television stars. These were two people in love. And love wasn’t just something that walked into your life everyday of the week. It was something that you had to plant, water and let seed; help grow. If you didn’t then it would die. But then when do the best laid plans ever go according to plan anyways?


	7. Seven

“Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure.”

-Paulo Coelho

Holidays were a time for family.

Of being close to those that you love and hold close.

With Christmas time closing in over them just like the blankets of snow that covered Boston ever since the day after the return from Los Angeles. Dean and Castiel had been busy - Dean mostly had been shouting angrily mostly through his cell phone at the lawyers at Collins Company but once or twice Cas had caught him whispering quietly when he was alone in their, now shared bedroom of Castiel’s apartment.

After this had happened a third time - instead of getting upset with Dean and silently brooding on the couch as he planned to do; he confronted him head on about the mysterious phone calls.

_Who are you talking to, Dean?_

Cas’ hands moved so fast in exasperation to get the question out that Dean almost didn’t register what was being asked of him. But he felt his cheeks redden and a wash of personal shame come over him.

“My brother Sam - they’re trying to take my book from me and turn it into something that it’s not. I won’t have that. I called Sam and he put an injunction in to stop them from printing it. I’m going to do it my way with another publisher or on my own completely.”

The absolute, clear cut no doubt way that Dean talked and the way that it showed in his made Cas believe in him. It’s also what he loved most about him. Castiel had learned early on that when Dean set his mind to something he always followed through.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now though - we got a week until Christmas and you still haven’t told me what you want,” Dean shifted the conversation away from him. He had been doing that a lot as of late.

The holidays weren’t always his favorite time of year. Typically he would curl up with a bottle of whiskey and his laptop.

Whether writing or porn it made no difference, especially during the holidays.

This year was different. They had passed out candy in front of the coffeeshop together on Halloween. On Thanksgiving Castiel and Dean prepared turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, corn and of course pie. Dean didn’t see the point in a holiday without pie.

Now as they neared what most would called the epitome of holidays - the most joyous of days; Dean was finally feeling all that nonsense, all that Christmas spirit. He had Castiel and that was the greatest gift he could have asked for. Cheesiness included.

_What about you? What would you like for Christmas?_

Dean shook his head as he placed the finale bulb on the tree. That’s what they had decided to do today.

More than half of Massachusetts was on a winter storm warning and Boston already had two feet on the ground. Ellen had closed down the coffeeshop until further notice because even if coffee warmed the soul, snow froze the body.

“I told you, I don’t need anything - material anyways…” Dean’s sentence trailed. As comfortable as he had become he was afraid to sound _too happy_ , too much like a person able of being broken by the restraints of a relationship - as he always remained comfortably out of. Though with a look from Cas he knew he was caught as he had been from day one. It was simple mathematics or science really. Dean and Castiel pulled at each other in a way no one else had been or could even see. Even as they had held back, the other pulled them in. A dance bound to repeat over and over again.

_I could think of something to get you, easily._

Castiel signed, slowly with cheeky smile on his lips. He had had a strong idea of what to get Dean for a good few weeks now but the plan had just come through entirely last night when he had gotten the confirmation email. Dean would love it. Cas was for sure about that.

“Cas you really don’t have to get me anything - whatever it is you have in you head just forget, alright? I don’t need anything. I swear. Just you, me some DVDs and the couch sounds like the best Christmas.”

Castiel nodded at the simplicity of that and _it was so Dean of him_ , he thought.

A few more days passed them by and Castiel didn’t bring up the present thing again. He knew in the back of his mind that the gift he had purchased for Dean would be arriving on Christmas Eve, barring any delays from UPS and that he would wrap it secretly while Dean was sitting on the couch wrapped up in his own little world on phone battles - even though the holiday was hours away, the book war hadn’t ceased in the least, but at least Castiel wasn’t alone in the slightly neglected lovers category.

Sam had a girlfriend or to be more politically correct a _fiancé_ \- though she didn’t know that yet, he was waiting until Christmas to propose. Castiel only knew this because Dean had told him last night in bed after he had gotten off the phone with his brother.

“She feels the same way you do about the whole book thing,” Dean remarked as he pulled the covers over himself and snuggled down deeper next to Castiel. “Like they should just give up and let me have the rights. It should be so simple. We all feel that way. I wish it was, but they're fighting hard because they _know_ the story is just that good - its fucking amazing and that’s why we’re fighting back, twice as hard.”

Castiel nodded. It was all he could do - all he really felt like doing in the blackened room. He had given up any thought of arguing with Dean about why the publishing company was fighting so hard for the book. He knew it was good, at least for the snips and pieces Dean had let him read. For some reason or another Dean had been very private about the book, still after the blow out in Los Angeles when they had told each other they loved one another.

He chalked it up it an artist’s personal reasons or something or another. He didn’t like to think that Dean was hiding something from him. That feeling didn’t bode well with him and as he let his mind wander that night he found sleeping hard.

As the clock that sat on the bedside table turned to an electric red three am Cas finally started to doze off. When he woke up he found the bed was empty but in Dean’s place there was a note.

_Cas,_

_went to grab breakfast_

_I love you xox_

He couldn't believe that thoughts of Dean hiding something had kept him up half the night and here Dean was, back to doing things he was doing in the first week of their relationship. Notes, breakfasts, next he’ll instigate something to do with baseball and making out in the terrible weather. He knew Dean, he should’ve known not to worry.

Castiel dressed quickly and as he entered the living room there was a knock on the door. Look through the peephole, Cas was thrilled to see that it was the UPS man.

“Mr. Novak?” He asked. Castiel nodded pulled out his wallet to show the delivery man his identification. “Alright, if you could just sign here and if you’d like I could sit the box inside it’s a little heavy.”

Castiel signed and gestured for the man to come inside. The UPS man gently set down the box on the coffee table, wished Castiel a happy holiday and was gone back out the door.

Taking a knife, Cas sliced the top of the box open only to check that what was inside was exactly what he had ordered and then quickly taped it back again. Grabbing the wrapping paper he set to work on wrapped the large, heavy box. The delivery man wasn’t kidding when he said it was heavy. It had to be at least thirty pounds.

When he was done wrapping, he carefully picked it up and set it underneath the tree. It looked very stately against the other smaller presents that were next to it.

As he stood there looking he was unaware of the key turning in the lock or Dean walking in, kicking snow off of his boots carrying in bags of food. He had donuts, coffee and in a container of Chinese. The snow was getting bad.

“I’m not going back out again- it’s a damn blizzard out there,” He quipped as he placed the food on the kitchen before he shed himself of his coat.

“What are you looking at, Cas?” Dean threw his lukewarm arm over him and Cas shivered at the contact and shifted his eyes up to the tree but it was pointless. The package was huge. “Where did that come from?”

_What?_

“Don’t what me, Cas. That!” Dean pointed straight at the large red and reindeer wrapped package. Castiel only shrugged still feigning no clue as to what his boyfriend could possibly be talking about. “Okay, okay… Play dumb all you want.”

Dean left it at that, for now anyways. He went back the sacks of food and started to dig in, offered a donut to Cas who took the powered, jelly-filled creation.

After awhile of the entire apartment being completely silent - Dean obviously wasn’t kidding when he said that he didn’t want anything for Christmas except a quite night in with Castiel. _Normal_. Well that wasn’t normal for Castiel - normal was exchanging gifts and a celebration. Castiel put on his coat and boots and left.

They had been together for five months. _Five months_. He supposed that if a fight over anything was going to happen it would be the holidays. But a present? _Presents, really?_ He understood that Dean didn’t have the same childhood as him. Hell Castiel didn’t even have a normal childhood either. But he still had some sort of relative normal compared to Dean. He had been grateful even though he had lost a vital tool of daily life. So he celebrated the good days because this was life. You take the good days with the bad days and hope for the best.

Castiel just didn’t know if he could understand, or if Dean even wanted him to because he sure hadn’t tried to explain anything to him. He just was focusing so much on the book, that was the only thing that had been important this past month.

As the wind whipped at his face Cas looked to the sky and watched the flurries race down, almost as if trying to beat one another to the ground to become part of the enormous mass of snow.

_Will I ever truly know everything about Dean?_

He wondered to himself. It was as if asking if the perfect relationship was possible and in the pit of his stomach he knew that was a silly question. Turning around he walked back home. It took longer than he expected or perhaps that’s because he had went further than he had imagined for when he unlocked the door and knocked on the wall, Dean didn’t call back to him. Looking around he saw a note on the kitchen counter next to the bag of Chinese.

_Cas,_

_Seriously? I went to look for you. Just stay here if you get back before me._

_-Dean_

He crumpled the note. The tone had completely changed from this morning. Yes, they definitely were in a fight.

Throwing off his coat and boots next to the door he retreated to the bedroom where he kept his own laptop. Flipping it open and on, he opened the internet and turned it emotionally to his tumblr page. He could easily kill the rest of the day here hidden amongst the fandoms he enjoyed being a part. Doctor Who, Supernatural, Sherlock amongst many others. He discovered there was even a small following for Dean on here.

An hour or two later when he heard the door slam close he was deep into reading a meta about the Archangel Gabriel’s eating habits when he was portraying a Trickster.

“Where the hell were you?” Dean was standing in the middle of the open bedroom door. Castiel didn’t even look up from the computer screen. He heard Dean come towards him and he tensed his shoulders as a wave of fear washed over him. This was unknown territory. What was about to happen?

“Cas, can’t you hear me? Dammit. I didn’t know where you were - you left without saying a damn word. I was worried sick. You can’t do that to me,” Dean had shoved the computer off of Cas’ lap and was gripping his shoulders. They were staring into each others eyes. Green meeting blue in a worried steady stare.

Dean’s eyes were strained and the usually bright greens of his eyes were darken but the longer he stared into Castiel’ blues, the bluest blue he had ever seen and there was no other eyes he ever wanted to see again.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered dropping his gaze.

Castiel was confused why was Dean apologizing? _I should be the one apologizing_ he thought to himself.

_No, Dean I’m sorry - I got mad, I left. I just don’t understand you._

Cas signed as he watched Dean fall back on the bed.

“What don’t you understand?”

Castiel looked around the room searching for the words that he wanted to say. A way that he wanted to get his words out.

_I don’t understand why you don’t like Christmas. I love this holiday Dean and you’re acting like it’s just going to be another typical Thursday._

Dean was quite. He didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t realized he had been acting like that - at least not outwardly towards Castiel. He didn’t want to ruin their relationship any way but how could he make Cas understand his feelings towards this holiday?

“Cas please don’t take this personally - it has nothing to do with you. Hell maybe it does? But, I uh, never spent Christmas with a guy before. Usually its me and the cheapest bottle of booze I can find. I guess it goes back to the whole fucked up childhood-never-had-a-real-Christmas-thing.”

Castiel rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, squeezing him tight. The comforting movement shook Dean up. He hadn’t counted on Castiel to be so understanding, even though he should’ve. Cas l _oved_ Dean and that meant everything to him.

“I promise that I’ll try acting better about this, especially tomorrow since its actually Christmas,” Dean squeezed Castiel back and as they pulled away kissed his lips hard.

***

The next morning as Castiel was lying snug and warm in the bed cuddled next to Dean he was awaken by a very excited Dean. It actually startled him to see  Dean decked out in a santa hat as he shook him awake.

“Wake up sleepy head! Its Christmas mooring and there are presents to open, come on!” Dean took Cas’ hand, dragging him out of bed and into the living room. Where in the middle of the night while Cas slept Dean had added more decorations.

_When did you do this?_

Cas padded forward slowly and sat down cross-legged in front of the tree. Dean came forward and sat down with his knees pulled to his chest, “Last night after you went to bed. I told you I’d try and you know what? Out there last night with all the other guys running around like their heads had been cut off was actually _fun_. You keep opening my eyes to stuff, Cas.”

Cas just smiled and brought forward the gigantic box that he had wrapped yesterday, sitting it in front of Dean.

_Open it._

“No, Cas you should open on of yours first,” Dean suggested to one of the presents that had also materialized since last night.

Castiel shook his head and pushed the heavy package closer to Dean’s leg.

“Just won’t take no for an answer will you?” Dean smiled slightly and gave in and started to tear at the reindeer wrapping paper.

When he had gotten to the cardboard box, Cas handed him the box cutter he kept under the coffee table and he carefully cut the box open. As the box fell open his mouth fell at the sight of the 1926 Royal Model 10 Typewriter.

“This is beautiful, Cas - where did you find this?” His eyes barely left the machine to look up for the answer.

_The internet_

The answer was simple enough. Castiel was simply happy that Dean loved what he had gotten for him it hadn’t mattered if Cas went into detail about how he spent hours searching and emailing about what different typewriters meant and in the end went with the one he thought looked the nicest.

“I’m sorry I ever bitched about this,” Dean started to inspect the keys and then shook his head and pushed the typewriter to the side. “Sorry, Cas open the ones I got you, alright?”

Cas nodded and brought forward the three packages that had his name on it. The first that he opened, was a small rectangle shape and when the wrapping was ripped off revealed a brand new iPhone 6Plus that was similar to Dean’s (just a generation newer seeing as Dean’s was a 5).

The second that he opened was a digital camera, the brand was Canon and the model was Rebel. The lens on it was huge and it felt heavy in his hand. Moving on quietly he placed the third and finale package in lap. It was about as heavy as the camera but it was a dull weight, spread out equally and as he ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a manilla envelope, Dean’s hand went over top Cas’.

“This last one is a lot more sentimental and important than those other two. It’s something… Something to do with the future. _Our future._ You don’t have to do anything with it right now but, I just want you to think about it. Okay?” With that in mind, Dean kissed Cas’ cheek and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Watching Dean walk away, Castiel was curious as to what was inside the envelope.

Slowly lifting up the metal tabs he reached in and pulled out a stack of papers.

His eyes glossed over large embossed words, _**Last Will & Testament**_.

What did this mean? He twisted his body around so fast he thought he had broken something vital.

But Dean was already leaning over the couch waiting for him.

“I know what you have to be thinking, or might being thinking at least but - I do this every time I finish a book. Just now… I think I should add an executor that isn’t my kid brother. At least one that I feel, closer to anyways.” Everything Dean was saying made absolute sense. There was nothing he could argue with.

Well there was one thing, though.

_Dean, does this mean anything else?_

That caught Dean slightly off guard but he smiled and a crimson crept across his cheeks hi-lighting several of his freckles.

“Why, why do you always beat me to theses things? Cas you gotta let me get to this on my own. I swear even when I have the whole day planned out to the second you find a way to skip to the next without me,” He wasn’t mad at Castiel - just the opposite actually. “Could you at least act surprised later at the coffeeshop?”

There was a fire spreading in Castiel’s stomach at the thought of what was going on. The half spoken conversation was thrilling and he nodded earnestly. With a look to the clock on the television it read noon and they both decided to get dressed for Ellen’s Christmas party that started at two o’clock. What would happen? Thoughts, half-baked filled Castiel’s mind as he got dressed beside Dean and he was brought out of his daydreaming by Dean, waving his hand in his face. What was the possibility…?

He could only hope and when life had already handed you your fair share of lemons - that’s the only thing you could do. Hope and pray things panned out your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates.   
> Writing is hard.  
> *shrugs*


	8. Eight

 “You were all I wanted, the best gift. I hadn’t even been looking, not for you, and now you were my heart’s desire.”

-Daniel Handler

The coffee shop was filled with people when Castiel and Dean finally made their way inside. The usual ten minute drive or walk over from the apartment now took half an hour in the foot and a half of fresh white powder that had fallen over night.

As they shed off their coats and hung them on the rack they instantly were ambushed by Joanna - Ellen’s daughter that was a year younger than Castiel and lived in New York where she was studying graphic arts.

“Castiel!” She wrapped her arms around Cas’ neck and pulled him tightly. Giving his body and tight squeeze. “Oh its so good to see you! Its been months. Is, is this him? The guy mom has been gushing about over the phone?”

She pulled away from Cas and sized Dean up with a hard stare that after a moment turned into a wide smile. She shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing slowly. She released the hold she had on Cas’ hand and stuck it out for Dean to shake which he gladly took. “Joanna - Call me Jo.”

“Dean Winchester-“

Though, Joanna took the moment to catch Dean off guard and pulled him close and got in his face, “You better be treating Cas right because I swear - he is like a brother to me and if you ever - **_ever_** hurt him, you’ll regret it.”

The sheer force by which she pulled Dean in took him off guard but he smiled at the guts she had to come off the way she did at a complete stranger. “I think I’m doing a pretty alright job so far.”

Dean looked over to Castiel who was just grinning from ear to ear as if he had expected this exact scene to go down when Jo and Dean met for the very first time.

Castiel smacked at Jo’s arm.

_Leave him alone. We’re happy. I am happy._

_It’s Christmas, Jo_

“Oh that reminds me! Uncle Bobby told me that he wanted to see you as soon you came in. I think Mom and him are some where towards the back of the shop near the counter? I have to go find my boyfriend,” She made the hand gesture to suggest that she was watching Dean and then threw her head back, laughing.

“Well she’s definitely… Something,” Dean commented as they made their way through the packed shop. Between the smell of baked, not burnt, goods and the light layering mix of different perfumes and colognes Castiel was getting a small throbbing in the back of his neck. Before he could even reach up to rub it himself, Dean had his hands on his shoulders, massaging the muscles.

He turned his head back slightly to look at Dean and gave him a slight smile just as Dean lifted one hand and pointed straight in front of both of them, “Look, there’s your Uncle and Ellen.”

They moved the last few steps until they were standing in front of the older pair; who unlike on a usual day were now laughing and holding on to each other.

Typically Ellen and Uncle Bobby kept their relationship under wraps and to a minimum, especially around Castiel. It wasn’t the fact that they were overt in their affection or anything. They just didn’t want to give him the wrong impression of them or what love was. A better person could probably explain it, Uncle Bobby thought once. To describe it more articulately maybe would be to say - they wanted him to shape his own idea about what love was. Which in any case didn’t matter. He learned more about love from books than from watching two middle age people making out like they were teenagers at the prom.

“Oh, Cas - Dean, there you two are, I was wondering when you two were going to show up,” Ellen released herself from Bobby’s hold and wrapped Dean and Castiel in one big group hug. Castiel let himself be fully embraced by the woman’s warm arms and the cinnamon smell she carried with her. Bobby was a little less familiar and extended handshakes to his nephew and Dean.

“Cas, honey I was wondering if you would help me pass presents out to everyone? You’re always so great with it,” Ellen asked as they got settled against the coffee counter, behind which was a great set of presents that was always collected at the start of every Christmas party. Castiel nodded, resigned. He knew before she had even asked that he would be the one helping her - well, himself and Jo. He could see the blonde curls heading their way making pitstops every few feet.

Dean watching as they hauled handfuls of presents around the room to strangers he hand never met before and he was clearly aware of what he was about to do as a heavy weight settled in on his left jean pocket.

He slipped his hand in and toyed with the object that was in there and blew heavily out of his nose.

“Something up, Dean?” Bobby was leaning against the counter drinking a cup of Irish coffee. “You seem more nervous than I would expect my nephew’s boyfriend to be on Christmas. What did you do, kill someone?”

Dean laughed and shook his head.

He hadn’t imagined that he would be so nervous about this. I mean what was there to be nervous about, really? There was the obvious fear of reject but it was more the public embarrassment that was concerning him and he knew that was just plain stupid.

“I, uh.. Well Cas and me. We exchanged gifts at home earlier but I have another one to give him. It’s a lot more… Personal.”

Bobby shifted his weight to his other foot and stared hard at the man in front of him. Dean was more than half his age, had all his hair, more money, more problems to boot for that and he made his nephew happy. That was the only thing that mattered to Bobby.

“You make him happy, that’s the only thing that matters to me,” Dean looked at him. “You want to marry him. You got my vote.”

Dean released a breath he didn’t know he was holding was it felt good. Better than good.

“Thank you.”

Bobby pointed to the middle of the room where they could see Ellen, Jo and Cas all standing. They had finished passing out the presents and were now being surrounded by Christmas well-wishers, “There’s usually a lull between now and the end of the party when everyone starts drinking and stuffing their faces with the ten triple chocolate lava cakes Ellen makes. Go.”

Dean didn’t waste any time with directing himself through the crowd to get to Castiel.

As he made his way to stand in front of Cas, out of breath and red faced, he started to laugh at the thought of his life changing - of changing someone else's life. It was a crazy thought.

The thought that he was crazy enough to be bold enough to want to marry someone was well, _crazy_.

_Dean - are you okay?_

Castiel had all but forgotten their conversation earlier in front of the Christmas tree. But time had lapsed his memory and the perfumed air was confusing him.

“I’m better than okay,” Dean smiled, wildly as he dropped to one knee. A few people gasped. Ellen and Jo included. “I know this is just so fast. But you never know what life has in store for you tomorrow and when I do meet tomorrow, Cas - I want to meet it with you beside me in the most important kind of way.”

Dean took the object, a velvet black box from his jean pocket and opened it to reveal a sleek, shiny platinum ring. He pulled it on and offered it to Castiel. He was stunned speechless. He knew it was coming, yes, from this morning he has guessed that this was what Dean had been talking about what with the papers in the manilla envelope. _But to actually propose?_ He didn’t think he would actually be standing here _being_ proposed to.

Castiel felt a shove in his back and from his peripheral version saw that it was Jo. Of course it was.

He nodded almost robotically as Dean slipped the ring on to his left ring finger and took his body up into a hug, kissing his face and that brought him back down to earth. It was as if the shock factor was broken by Dean’s touch and he soon found himself in a fit of silent tears.

The pair soon found themselves being surrounded by everyone in the coffee shop being congratulated and well wished.

It was all a bit overwhelming but as Dean looked to Castiel’s face for any sign of anxiety or fear he was relieved to see that his now, fiancé was giddy and smiling widely making hand gestures and signing wildly with Ellen and Jo. In all honesty, Castiel never dreamed of this. A happy and long life with a man that he loved yes, that was all he ever had in mind. That is until Dean had put the thoughts in his head this morning.

Dean and Castiel found themselves in the kitchen and slightly out of breath from the crowd of people that wanted to ask a million questions that they only had one answer for - _we don’t know yet_.

_Dean this is very fast._

Castiel signed. It wasn’t that he was taking back his answer, just simply stating.

“I love you, you love me. I’ve been alone my entire life it seems and I’ve never been even remotely happy. Until I met you and dammit Cas, I am happy. And I am going to let myself be for once in my entire life be happy,” Dean took Castiel’s hand and squeezed it and he felt the weight of the band sink into his hand from the force Dean used.

_I was just saying. We’ve know each other for five months, that’s all._

_I love you so very much and that will never change. I just never saw myself getting married but that’s probably because I never thought I would find someone that would love me the way that you love me._

Reaching out and encasing Castiel’s head with his hands, Dean stared into his amazing crystalline blue eyes.

“You should never think like that again, okay? I will always be here for you. Always. Side by side until we get to be about one hundred and then I don’t know what promises I can make except to go first and then wait for you in the light.”

 _Oh shut up and kiss me_.

And that’s exactly what he did.

You can’t predict the outcome of the story.

You can only start on page one and keep reading until the end. You know there will be highs and lows, somewhere or another you’ll hit a climax, maybe even two. You’ll root for them and cry for them the characters. Develop a bond perhaps and even, maybe carry a character with you far beyond the last page.

I guess the only thing that you don’t have control over is who writes the story that you live.


	9. Nine

“Sometimes it’s better not to look back.” - Ransom Riggs

January was slowly passing by Dean and Castiel. As one was flipping through wedding planning magazines and sending emails to Sam’s fiancé Jessica about weddings the other was flipping through a book manuscript and yelling loudly on the phone to his brother. 

Snow was still piling up on the doorsteps outside all over Boston when Castiel opened a very interesting email from Jessica.

_Cas! I overheard Sam talking and its Dean’s birthday on Friday - are you planning anything? Do you want us to come down? We’re just in New York!_

_\- Jessica Moore M.D_

Castiel stared hard at his computer for a while. Dean hadn’t mentioned his birthday was coming up nor even when it was at all. Looking down at his left hand, that feeling that he had back at Christmas crept up on him. _Would he ever know everything there is about Dean?_

Taking his laptop with him from the bedroom out to the living room where Dean was working; he sat down on the couch next to him and waited patiently for Dean to hang up from his phone call.

It took five minutes.

“Sorry - that was the new publishing house Sam set me up with, what’s up babe?” Dean looked up and slowly took in Cas’ facial expression which, told him in one swipe that his husband to be was upset and with another look, down to the laptop that Cas had faced towards him he read Jessica’s email that was still open.

Dean’s mouth gaped open and he couldn’t find words for a moment but that was fine because Castiel was already signing them.

_Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up? Hell even when it was? I could have been planning something Dean - I’m your boyfriend._

“Fiancé,” Dean corrected him at the most inopportune place.

_In everything I just said, that’s what you chose to define?_

Castiel shook his head, picked up the laptop and started to go back to the bedroom.

“No, no Cas,” Dean jumped off of the couch and caught him just as he rounded the corner out of the living room. He took him by the elbows and rubbed them gently. Cas took the laptop and set it on the hall table.

_Is there something I have to understand here Dean? If it’s like Christmas - than I can understand but you have to tell me and we can work on it but I will never know if you don’t talk to me._

Dean drew in a deep breath and only released it after he realized he had been holding it and his breathing was starting to become compromised.

“Cas…, I love you, so much and sometimes I forget that there’s two people in this relationship. I’ve already told you more than once that I’m used to being a loner shut in,” His words shook and taking a breath, Dean rubbed his thumbs in circles over Cas’ elbows.

“Birthdays? The last one I celebrated was my sixteenth and that’s only because of Sam. He was twelve and brought home a cake he has bought by shoveling horse crap at the farm next door. And… and this,” Dean pulled out a small woven necklace that had a crudely formed handmade lion’s head on the end of it.

_What is that?_

Castiel reached out and softly touched the necklace. From simply looking at it, you would think it was rough but actually touching it? It was very smooth.

“Sam. Worked on it for weeks - mostly the lion head. Made that in shop class… I don’t think either of us thought that fourteen years later I would have this thing still around my neck but here we are.”

Castiel was quite as he soaked in all that Dean had said. He had realized back at Christmas that, even though they both had rough upbringings, each horrible in their own way; they were both scarred and they carried those scars in different ways.

_I wish I would have just asked and not got upset._

_I love you too, Dean. Please tell me what you want to do._

Dean looked around the hallway where they had found themselves in. Cas had taken pictures of them and framed them up on the walls. There they were on Halloween, their quite Thanksgiving together and more recently at Ellen’s Christmas Party which had become their impromptu engagement party.

Castiel had opened him up and there was no reason to stop it now.

“A party sounds great, Cas.”

***

Three days later, Castiel was on a chair hanging streamers. There were green and white ones he had twisted to make them look more festive.

Jessica was in the kitchen cooking the food and even more importantly the pie.

“Cas? When did Sam say he would have Dean back? She called, walking back through the living room towards him.

Instead of signing, he simply held up his hand for five and then dropped four fingers.

“Six?” She checked her wristwatch. It was five-thirty now. “That’s great. Everyone should be showing up soon. And the foods just about down. I’ll help you finish up the decorations. Let’s get to it!”

Picking up the other end of the streamers, Jessica helped Cas get to work on making the living room look like party central.

As they were just finishing decorating the cake together there were several loud raps on the door.

“Do you want me to…?” Jessica asked, a smear of frosting on her cheek from where she had tried to push her hair back and draw a book in gel at the same time.

Castiel nodded, he was just about done writing Dean’s name out in crimson red gel himself and as the N finished off with a flourish he smiled, proudly of the cake he and Jessica and created and hoped that Dean would love it just as much as he did.

“Castiel Alexander Novak you get over here right now!” Snapping his head up and scurrying off of the stool he was perched on - he rounded out of the kitchen and soon found himself face to face with Ellen and Jo.

“O-O-Oh she has got it out for you tonight,” Jo smirked and shook her finger at Cas.

_What did I do?_

He signed.

“What did you do boy? Well for starters you told us to come at the wrong time -“

 _Wrong time?_ -

Castiel checked his watch and it was a quarter to six. They were right on time.

_Ellen, you are right on time._

“We should have been here hours ago, Cas. Helping you and - what’s your name Dear?” She looked over to where Jessica stood quietly.

“Oh, I’m Jessica Moore, I’m Sam’s fiancé,” Jessica reached out her hand which Ellen shook warmly but eyed her up and down nonetheless, as she did every new person Castiel introduced her to.

“Ah, right. The mysterious brother - I suppose we’ll be meeting him too tonight?” Jo quipped from the couch that she had fallen on to moments before.

_Yes. He’s keeping Dean gone while we set up the party. By the way - where is Uncle Bobby?_

“He should be along shortly - didn’t exactly say what was going to keep him but I figured not to ask. He’s in one of those moods of his,” Ellen patted Cas’ shoulder before venturing off to the kitchen with Jessica to discuss the food she had prepared.

Minutes ticked by and soon it was seconds before seven. Castiel looked around worriedly. Uncle Bobby still hadn’t shown up and Sam had just texted him that he was about to bring Dean in.

Castiel raised his hand and they turned off the lights. As everyone quieted down and hid behind the couch, you could hear the lock in the key turning and then light from the hallway streamed in.

“Sam, what’s going on? You said everyone was here,” Castiel smiled to himself as the ruse they were playing on Dean.

“That’s what the text from Cas said - or wait a minute did Jess call me after the text and say we should go to the coffee shop?”

Dean sighed out forcefully through his nose. Sam had taken Dean out to look at bikes and then to a couple of local booksellers that talked to him about carrying his book - after it was published. A stop at a bar for a drink and then they hurried back here.

 _Hurried_ was not Dean’s use of terminology - it was precisely what Sam had said when he told Dean that they had to go back to the apartment.

“ _we need to hurry back to the apartment - Jess just called me_ ,” Sam had said and Dean remembered that clearly. He knew that they were messing with him, but it was his birthday and to tell the truth he simply did not care. Dean was only playing along to make Castiel happy. Honestly that’s the only thing that truly mattered to him.

“Maybe one of them left us a note? Dude, I’m completely out of the loop,” Sam kept the game on.

Dean nodded and started to walk into the living room to flip on a light but before he could get there.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone jumped out and Jessica flipped on the lights from the kitchen, flooding the entire apartment with light.

Dean took a step back and looked around the completely decorated room from the green and white streamers to the ‘Happy Birthday Dean!’ sign pinned to the wall.

Cas walked slowly to Dean’s side.

_Surprise!_

A smile was plastered on the younger man’s face and Dean couldn’t help but wrap his arms instantly around Cas’ torso and pull him close and press his lips hard against his lips.

“I was definitely surprised,” No trace of mockery was in his voice. Dean released his tight grip and left his arm to hang gingerly around Cas’ waist and they began to walk around the small gathering of their families.

Sam was already in a deep talk with Jo over his political standings and what exactly his pro bono quota was.

“All I’m saying is if every lawyer did at least five more pro bono cases a year then their win rates would go up-“

Sam cut her off, “That makes no sense. Taking on those kinds of cases are hard - they’re usually hopeless lose-lose types and they take away from-“

“Away from cases where you can get a big pay off?”

As Dean and Castiel watched the taller man stare down at the smaller, petite blonde woman - Dean couldn’t help himself but to laugh. He knew Jo was pushing his brother’s buttons simply to get a rise out of him.

He slapped Sam on the shoulder and said, “Don’t let her get under your skin, little bro.”

They walked on to spot Ellen in the kitchen with Jess. They, unlike Sam and Jo were laughing and sharing a plate of ranch dip and potato chips.

_Well they look like they’re getting along fine._

Dean nodded before, momentarily, letting go of Cas to open up the refrigerator and grabbing them both a beer. Neither Ellen nor Jessica noticed the birthday boy and he was just fine with that.

Dean nodded towards the bedroom, “Let’s hide for a bit while everyone’s occupied.”

Taking his fiancé’s hand, he led him to the bedroom and closed the door. Castiel went into their closet and pulled out a square present box. It had brown wrapping paper and white string that came up tied into a bow.

 _Happy birthday, Dean_.

Dean looked down at the box that Castiel had sat down on the bed next to him, then chugged at his beer.

He was still taking this all one step at a time. He wasn’t going to tell Cas _that he shouldn’t have gotten him a gift_. Because that’s what you do on birthdays, he knew that; he read it in a book or something.

He pulled at the string and then ripped at the paper softly. Underneath all of that was a cardboard box.

Dean opened the box up to see another box, wrapped the exact same way. He smirked, knowing that there was bound to be quite a few more boxes inside. Proving himself right, there was another smaller box and then another until finally inside of that one there was small rectangular box.

Pushing all the other boxes aside, Dean picked this small black, velvety box up.

“What’s this now?” His voice calm and full with wonder. He truly had no idea.

_Open it._

Castiel wasn’t about to give anything away and he watched, eyes widening as Dean slowly flipped open the box.

Lying in the center was a beautiful golden pen.

“Cas, that’s… I don’t even know what to say.”

Castiel reached forward and turned the pen slightly so that Dean could read the inscription engraved there on the pen.

He read it out loud, _“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”_

Cas wrung his fingers together,

_I thought it fit good with your Christmas present…_

Looking down at the wooden floorboards, he wasn’t sure whether or not Dean liked his gift.

“Hey there - look up at me,” Using one finger he lifted Cas’ chin and peered into his blue eyes. “This is perfect. I love it.

Pulling the other man close to him, he leaned down and they kissed. Wrapping an arm Castiel he squeezed him tightly.

Despite his initial feelings about birthdays and even more celebrating them, he was happy that he agreed to let Cas throw him a party. It was small and intimate just family and that’s all that really mattered.

Minutes later Sam came and dragged them both out to sing Happy Birthday and cut the cake.

Everyone had a few more drinks and then Sam pulled Dean aside, “Happy birthday, Dean.”

He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and handed it over to his _older_ brother.

He raised his hand to take it when he paused, “Hold up you’re not suing me or anything right? Because it _is_ my birthday.”

Sam laughed and shook his head, “Dean just take it and read what it says.” Dean did and as his eyes skimmed they slowly got wider and wider until it seemed they were going to fall from his face.

Dean reached up and gripped Sam’s shoulder, “Is this for real? Really, for real?” “

Do you understand how many times you just said ‘real’?” He raised an eyebrow before continuing. “Yes, it’s all for real. You have a publishing house - and not just that but if you look on page three they want this book and your next two.”

Dean shook his head in utter disbelief, “I can’t believe this. Sammy, thank you for everything.”

Sam raised a finger, “Just remember you singing my praises next month at the wedding.”

Dean waved him off, “Yeah, yeah. Just remember my bitching when its my turn.”

The brothers laughed mutually and then a small silence lapsed over them and Dean brought his brother in for a hug.

“Really, Sammy. Thank you.”

 

Soon everyone was gone and Castiel found Dean on the couch pouring over the letter that Sam had given to him.

“It’s really happening, Cas. It’s being published - and they even sent me a check, already. I can finally…”

He trailed off and Cas wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about. Finally what? Though at the moment he wasn’t going to let himself worry too much about it. Thing were good, things were getting better. They were working through all their past problems and there was no looking back.

Each of them was determined to focus on the upcoming future. _Their_ upcoming future. It was all just starting for them. Let the past be damned.


End file.
